


Warlock

by Ithiel_Dragon, virtualpersonal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe, Angst, Demons, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-30
Updated: 2011-07-24
Packaged: 2018-10-06 01:56:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 128,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10322882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithiel_Dragon/pseuds/Ithiel_Dragon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: Four hundred years ago Dean sold his soul in exchange for revenge against the ones who burned his brother as a witch.  Now a demon, most of his humanity burned away in hell, he spends his nights making deals and indulging in all manner of sinful pleasures.  Until one night he meets a young man who is the spitting image of his long dead brother.  Could Sam Winchester really be the reincarnation of his brother?  Dean is determined to find out, and make Sam his, one way or another.This work is incomplete and abandoned, it will never be completed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Story uploaded by Ithiel Dragon. This was a roleplay story I was involved in several years ago on a forum called Devil's Gate. Ithiel Dragon played Dean Winchester, and some other characters. Virtual Personal (as Cas) played Sam Winchester, and some other characters. I am posting this story in its entirety and unedited. The page breaks are where the author changed. Maybe one day I will go back and edit it into a more proper story format, but don't hold your breath. I'm mostly posting this story here so I don't lose it. I still think its a pretty good read the way it is, but it is still obviously a roleplay. You've been warned.

Flames licked and kissed his body, burning only his feet and ankles at first. His throat was raw with screaming even before the flames reached his knees. He tried to run, to get away from the fires, to be free, but he couldn't move. "Oh God... oh God..." he screamed... screamed for deliverance, for pity, for death. When all failed, he turned and focused on a figure, one who shared his pain... focused until his eyes were burned out of his head and he was nothing... nothing but a puff of black smoke.  


  
Sam jerked back, eyes opening, breaths panting out, pulse beating dangerously fast. His hand was gripping the edge of the library desk, so tight, his knuckles were white and bloodless. Trying to shake off the familiar daze, the fear that pumped through his blood whenever the nightmares came to him, he looked around to see if anyone had noticed... if he'd thrashed around... if he'd said anything.

There was no one, no one because it was Friday night, past ten and most of the students at the university had places to be, or unlike him, liked to procrastinate. Taking a couple more deep breaths, he forced the dreams out of his head. He'd had them all his life. Sometimes he could remember, other times he just knew the dreams had come, and that he'd called out, or thrashed around, or fell out of bed. He'd lost two roommates over it, and now had the dorm room all to himself. Sometimes... sometimes the twenty year old wished he could drink to forget.

Sighing, he started to collect his textbooks, tossing them inside his backpack. His engineering classes came easy to him, he'd always had a knack for making and fixing things. His nick name was MacGyver. Okay, that was one he liked. He'd also been dubbed nerd and freak and countless other names throughout his years.

Swinging his backpack over his shoulder, he headed past the other tables, then went through some of the stacks, and found his way to the large heavy doors of the library. Taking the steps two at a time, he reached the bottom and started to cross the greens to take a short cut to the dorms which were maybe a couple blocks away. He knew he didn't want to go back to sleep, so that was out. Maybe some t.v., or he might stick his head in the school pub, see what was going on. He could decide later.

* * *

The base of the music thumped like the pounding of a heartbeat. The club and everyone in it seemed to move with its pulse, so loud nothing else seemed to exist. It was enchanting and everyone within the structure was under its spell. Bodies wove together on the dance floor under a powerful spell of lust and sin. Men and women, women and women, men and men, all of them twining around each other in heat, sweat, and sex. Indulging their desires, uncaring of the consequences.

He moved through the crush of bodies on the dance floor with ease despite the thickness of the crowd. Strobe lights flashed overhead. White, black and blood red, making everyone appear to be moving in slow motion despite the upbeat tempo of the music. Like broken marionettes on tangled strings.

Sometimes he felt the brush of a hand along his back and ass. Arms wrapped around his neck as one body pressed to his front while another pressed to his back. A deep masculine voice whispering filthy inviting things into his ear, followed by a sweet female, but he ignored them all. Pushing through the throng of lust to reach the one his eyes had been focused upon all night.

She sat alone at the bar despite the crowd, nursing a glass of tequila in one hand, and a half finished cigarette in the other. In her early forties, once she would have been beautiful, but sickness had faded that beauty. Her skin was pale and thin, her cheeks sunken in with illness and the dark circles under her eyes made her look like the corpse she was slowly becoming.

“Hello Carla.” He said once he was right behind her and she startled slightly as she turned around. Despite the loud music practically drowning out everything he could hear her weak heart quicken when she saw him. The cigarette trembled in her hand but it had nothing to do with fear.

“I…” It was all she managed before the bartender came over.

“Hey, Dean. Can I get you anything?” Chuck, the bartender asked, and Dean gave him a slow smile.

“Jack Daniels. Make it a double.” He said and Chuck nodded before heading away to get him his drink. When Dean turned his eyes back to Carla, she was looking down at the floor, but even though she’d turned her face from him he could smell the tears she was fighting.

“I take it the latest doctor’s appointment did not go very well.” He said casually as he leaned up against the bar, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. Chuck returned with his drink and he threw a few bills on the counter.

“He said… a few months…” She finally whispered in a weak trembling voice. Dean nodded and took a drink from his glass. Carla finally looked up to meet his eyes. “I… I can’t die yet… my kids…”

“I told you, Carla. Ten years. Take it or leave it. Trust me it’s a hell of a lot longer than the cancer will give you.” Dean replied. When she hesitated, he finished off the last of his drink and set it down on the counter. “Have it your way.” He said casually then turned and started to walk away.

“Wait!” She cried, reaching out for his arm. Dean smiled and turned around slowly, raising an eyebrow in expectation. She finally caved. He knew she would. “All right.”

Dean reached up to cup the back of her neck in a surprisingly gentle hold as he pulled her closer, his lips meeting hers in a slow kiss. When the kiss finally ended and he pulled back the tears she’d been holding back all this time were finally streaming down her face. Whether it was from relief of the pain she’d been in for months, or the new found fear he could see dancing in her eyes as she looked at him he didn’t really care.

“We have a deal then.” Was all he said. In the darkness of the club only she could see that his eyes were now pitch black. 

* * *

[One Week Later]

Sam had come back to his room and just dropped down onto the bed and flicked the t.v. on when the door opened and four good friends and several other people walked in, giving hoots and shouting 'happy birthday." He gave them a suspicious look. They'd just partied at the school pub, and he'd had a couple beers 'legally.' "What's... going on? Don't tell me you got a cake," he said, looking at his closest friend.

"Cake... you want cake, yeah, we'll give you cake," Drew said, his dark eyes sparkling. "Come on Winchester, there's no going to bed at midnight on your 'big night.' We're taking you out."

"I... we were out," Sam protested. "You guys go... I drank too much."

"Ha, don't give me that. I've never seen you drunk, and I'm tired of your old ... under age excuse. Come on, or... my posse here will make you," he said, pointing behind him at the other guys and a couple of girls, all of whom joined in the demands that he get up.

Sam tried to ignore them, he really did. But then grabby hands were pulling him off the bed and he had to agree to go or he was going to be fucking carried. "Where to?"

"Where to... Sam my boy, we're getting you drunk and laid. You won't be virgin boy any-- ow!"

"Jerk," Sam shook his head, and the hand he'd punched him in the arm with. "Fine, I'm not staying long enough to get laid. I'm in the middle of a paper and--"

The cat calls and shouts of "Sam is getting laid," drowned him out, and he felt his cheeks burn as the singing continued even once they were outside, and were drawing attention. He was never so glad as when the group split up and got into separate cars. His demands to know where they were going were ignored, but there was a lot of teasing about what to expect. Someone mentioned dancing.

"I don't dance," he muttered, then gave up. No one was listening anyway.

Twenty minutes later, they were walking into a big club. "Dante's Inferno... ah..." Sam had heard it was one of the hottest clubs but he wasn't so sure he belonged in a place like that. You had to have a wild streak and... The thrum of the music went through his body even near the door where they were all carded.

Inside, it was packed with people. As his friends pushed him along, Sam stopped several times to look at people. The women were scantily dressed. There was a lot of latex, tight clothes, cleavage, heels and bare skin. The men... he was surprised it was the same for them. One guy was wearing g-strings and it was like no one was noticing... like it was normal. Feeling very much out of place, Sam didn't give a single protest as someone ordered shots.

Shots of what? He had no fucking clue, but he took one, then a second... at least the first one had killed his taste buds so the second one wasn't as bad going down, then a third. He put his hand up when Drew tried to order another.

"Dude... " He shook his head and turned away from the bar to look at the throng of people. One of the girls in their group tried to get him to dance. He explained to her about his two left feet, and kept shaking his head no, until she gave up and went with someone else.

Drew and Pete hung out with him. Someone ordered a drink that had freaking smoke floating on the top of the glass. And for some reason, it was the funniest thing Sam had ever laughing so hard his stomach ached. He kept begging for food, a snack, something, cause he knew he was tipsy.... nah, he was more than that, but the drinks kept coming.

Someone tapped on his shoulder, he looked up. "Yeah?" he asked a guy in a red see through shirt.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Sam noticed how white the guys teeth were and was staring.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,' I'm..."

"Oh," he came to his senses. "No... no I'm here with someone... but thanks..." he elbowed Drew who was being no help and was laughing too loud." The instant the guy left, Sam joined in the laughter. By the time he was done, he noticed his friends had disappeared. Groaning, because it would be hell trying to find them... hell... ha ha... too bad no one was there to share his joke. "I'll take another drink... maybe one of those smoking ones... what were they?" he asked the bar tender, smiling and hoping he wasn't slurring too much.

* * *

It was a Friday night and the club was crowded nearly to capacity as always. The press of hot young bodies on the dance floor was so tight one person could barely move without rubbing up against another, whether by accident or on purpose. Scantly clad, beautiful bodies. Male. Female. Sometimes it was difficult to tell the difference within the writhing mass. The music was loud and the air was ripe with sin. It was utterly delicious and Dean savored every breath of it he took.

He sat in the private balcony area overlooking the dance floor reserved for only the most exclusive guests. From his vantage point he could view practically everyone within the club. He enjoyed watching them. As the liquor flowed and inhibitions were lowered he watched them practically fucking on the dance floor. A beautiful sinful mass that did their best to taint their souls in exchange for a few hours of pleasure on this earth.

Dante's Inferno. It never failed to amuse him how mortals flocked to the promise of hell. If they only knew what hell really was, they would not be so eager to enter. Music replaced with the deafening screams of the damned, pleasures replaced by unimaginable torment for all of eternity, until nothing was left of their precious humanity.

Dean knew all too well...

He had been dead for nearly four hundred years to the day. He had been damned upon his death. He had spent most of those four hundred years in hell. Though the time he'd spent suffering in the pits of fire and brimstone had burned away most of his humanity it certainly hadn't erased his sense of humor. Dean found it enormously funny that he, a demon, did some of his best work in a club called Dante's Inferno. There were always plenty of mortals willing to sell their souls in exchange for money, sex, or power here.

Dean wasn't here searching for a soul tonight, however. He had come here for his own enjoyment. His own pleasure. Demons enjoyed all the pleasures humans partook of, they had once been human after all, and more. What humans called need was nothing compared to the overwhelming lust of a demon. Hunger. Sometimes he sated that lust by ripping apart mortals in a bloody froth of flesh and entrails. Other times he enjoyed fucking several beautiful men and women all night long. Sometimes he would do both. It depended on his mood.

Right now he wasn't sure which he wanted more, but he was in no rush. He waited, drinking at his table, for one to catch his eye. The perfect one.

He had his eyes on a beautiful perfect female specimen, blonde, nice firm breasts, slim waist, clear blue eyes. She was in the company of a rather striking male as well, and Dean was contemplating whether or not to just take the female or the both of them, when a strange sensation came over him. If he didn't know better he would have said it was a chill that had crawled up his spine. Whatever it was it was not a welcome feeling and Dean scowled as he turned his attention away from his prey to find out what it was.

It was no hunter, he knew that. He was not afraid of hunters. It could not be another demon either. It certainly did not feel like a demon. But it still felt... familiar... Dean's eyes turned to the bar and he suddenly froze utterly still as he stared at a ghost. It was... impossible.

Samuel?

No. Of course it could not be. It had been four hundred years... and of course during that time he had seen young men who shared similar features, sometimes very similar features, but this...

Dean did not even hear the shattering of the glass in his hand, or feel the sharp shards biting into his palm as he stood. The pain was inconsequential anyway the pieces of glass were being pushed out of his flesh even as he left a trail of blood on the dance floor that no one noticed. Until he was standing right behind him. Close enough to smell. Close enough to touch. His voice... even his voice was the same... Impossible...

"Its called Devil's Breath." Dean said, stepping close and sliding a bill on the bar, his eyes never leaving the young man. "Make it two."

* * *

" _Devil's breath_... figures. Owner must think he's got a great sense of humor," Sam said, smiling, but then losing the smile when the man who'd given him the info then wanted to buy him a drink. What the hell, was he putting out gay vibes tonight? One of his friends had said something about this place making you want to loosen up and try things you never had before but ... this?

He turned his face, saw the guy was looking intently at him and took a slight step away. "I'll get my own, thanks," he nodded, frowning just a little. Maybe he'd mistook what was happening... the guy did look familiar... maybe it was the drinks and he just couldn't place him. Unsure, he dragged his gaze away, but could practically feel the guy's eyes still on him as he pulled open his own wallet and took out dollar bills.

When the bar tender didn't take his money, but only took the other guy's, Sam didn't know what to think. "Dude... I'm paying for my own," he insisted, leaving the money there as he took the drink and dared to look at the guy again. This time, he noticed some blood on the guy's fingers and without thinking, set his drink down and grabbed his hand to take a look. "I think you're cut... but...." he looked back up at the dark blond's face as he released his hand, finding no wound. "Sorry."

Maybe he was talking to a serial killer who'd just picked him as his next victim. _Right, because serial killers walk around with blood on their hands as a warning._ There had to be an explanation, his mind was just too fuzzy to think one up. Still... he cleared his throat. "I'm here with friends." Speaking of, where the hell had they gone? Feeling a little nervous, he picked up his drink and swallowed down a couple big mouthfuls.

* * *

Dean simply couldn’t take his eyes off the doppelganger. The shape of his jaw, the angle of his cheek, the color of his eyes… so much exactly the same, exactly as he remembered. There was much of his life as a human that he no longer remembered. It was the price all the damned paid when they burned in the pit. All humanity lost, burned away, until only sin remained. Only the darkness of the soul left that had sent them to hell to begin with. But Dean had never forgotten him.

Perhaps because it was his love for the boy that had damned him in the first place. Not directly, of course. It was only when he was taken away. When love was transformed into hate. The desire for revenge against the ones who’d taken him away. Murdered him…

His brother…

Samuel…

Dean blinked, realizing he’d almost been frozen in place staring at the young man in front of him like he’d been looking at a ghost, when the other man took his hand. It was like an electric current passed through his hand from the touch and Dean’s eyes snapped down in surprise as he pulled his hand back just as it was released. Blood. He hadn’t noticed it. He hadn’t noticed anything else but the man standing in front of him.

But he had come back to himself now. This man… whoever he was, was not Samuel. His brother had been dead for over four hundred years. His soul far beyond his reach. This man, he was only a replica, a pale imitation. But that did not mean Dean did not want him. Dean wanted him very much. To take him. To fuck him. Having this man would not fill the gaping hole that had been left in his soul from Samuel’s death, anymore than the killing of Samuel’s murder’s had, but he had been looking for someone to satisfy his lusts tonight. This human was as good as any.

“Don’t worry, its only fake blood. You know, for Halloween and shit. Someone’s practical joke. This is ‘Hell’ after all.” Dean replied, giving the young man a charming smile and shrug as he reached for a napkin first to wipe the blood off his hand and then his drink.

“Friends huh? Well, that’s allowed.” The demon said with a chuckle, glancing around them. Watching the young man guzzle down his drink, he chuckled again. “Might want to take it easy with that. So, they leave you to have fun by yourself?”

* * *

"Fake blood... right, sorry." He apologized again, feeling really foolish now, even if the guy wasn't making a deal of it and was smiling. Sam's gaze was drawn once again to the guy's eyes, he couldn't shake this feeling. He really hated it when he couldn't remember, and like the guy said, the drink probably wasn't helping any.

"Guess they did," he looked over his shoulder again, and in the thick throng of moving bodies, he couldn't see even one of them. "They were threatening to get me drunk and laid," he laughed, and looked back. "Since I'm well on my way to drunk, they're probably out there looking around for someone to drag over and embarrass me with." Yup, he was saying too much. He felt the heat burning his cheeks. "It's my birthday and they're being asses." Giving a shrug, he took another swallow of the Devil's Breath, and set it down.

"I've never been here or anywhere _like_ it. Just got legal, 21st birthday and all," he grinned. "You probably come here often." It was an assumption. The guys seemed so at ease, and the bar tender clearly knew him. He couldn't help admiring the guy and thinking of the contrast between them, here he felt like a fish out of water, and this guy oozed confidence. As he looked at him, there it was again, that twinge. Something in his gut that told him he should remember.

Sam cocked his head. "Do I know you? You go to UCLA?" He couldn't really place him at school but there was definitely something about him, something about the eyes. "I'm Sam, by the way." Maybe getting the guy's name would jog his own memory.

* * *

Dean listened intently to the young man as he spoke. The pitch of his voice. The sensual way his lips curved around every word. He could easily imagine those perfect lips curled around his cock. That sweet, almost innocent, tongue lapping at his head and the drops of seed dribbling out of the slit. The young man's eyes, already heavy with alcohol, even more so with lust and desire. The flush to his skin born of arousal rather than embarrassment.

He laughed a little at the young man’s words about his friends. Drunk and laid, huh? Well, Dean could certainly appreciate that plan. He could appreciate it very much. As long as it was him that the young man was going home with.

Dean could certainly tell that the young man was not used to places such as this. He had such an innocent quality to him. Only twenty one... the same age as his brother had been when he’d been killed. Dean couldn’t help but be even more intrigued by the young human because of the similarities between him and his long dead brother. It almost seemed like too much of a coincidence, and Dean didn’t really believe in coincidences anyway. He’d lived far too long for that. Then how did he explain this young man?

This young man... who’d name was Sam? That... that was almost too uncanny even for him, and Dean found himself staring at the young man in surprise for a moment before he shook himself out of it and reached out his hand to shake the younger man’s with a smile.

“Hello, Sam, nice to meet you, and happy birthday. My name is Dean. No, I have not been in college for some time now.” Dean’s smile turned a little more suggestive. “I hope you have something special planned for your birthday. You only turn twenty one once, you know. You should enjoy every minute of it.”

Dean hadn’t let go of Sam’s hand yet, holding it gently but firmly, as he stepped a little closer to the young man.

“In fact, lets dance. You deserve to cut loose a little. Don’t worry, I’ll lead, and I won’t take no for an answer.” Dean said, putting a little bit of suggestion behind his words to help the liquor in lowering the young man’s inhibitions even more. 

* * *

Sam was a little surprised when the guy shook his hand but came to his senses enough to give a firm shake of his own. As Dean’s words washed over him, something in the back of his mind told him that his hand was being held longer than necessary, and somewhere it registered that Dean’s emphasis on the words ‘special’ and “enjoy’ held a much deeper meaning. He smiled and gave a small laugh, telling himself Dean was being like his friends. Besides, he was the one who’d kinda brought up drinking and getting laid.

Dean. It suited the guy. Short, kind of direct, like the owner of the name. He’d just started to pull his hand away when Dean stepped into his personal space. Sam raised a questioning gaze and felt his breath hitch. For one crazy moment, looking into those jade eyes, he felt dizzy and warm all over. His stomach tightened, and you’d think he was some love struck kid who’d lost the power to speak.

He wasn’t an idiot. He got that this was a come-on. That he’d been right about the whole drink-buying thing. Yet he couldn’t make his mouth work, couldn’t pull away, couldn’t even look away. Heart beating against his chest, Sam told himself that in a moment, Dean would move back and everything would go right again.

Wrong. Dean’s voice had dropped an octave and he was asking him to dance. Sam shook his head ‘no,’ trying to find the words to explain he didn’t dance, not ever, when the guy continued. He’d lead. To lead, they’d have to be touching. Sam’s stomach fluttered and tightened. He should say no. Drew and the others would be back any moment and...

Yet, there was this heat in the guy’s eyes, a focus, something that made him feel something he wasn’t... special. And something else, something he recognized, something familiar and elusive.

The warm hand around his seemed to tighten, to tug him lightly as if to urge him to decide. He wet his lips with his tongue. “I guess I could say the ‘devil’ made me do it,” he finally answered, pulse now beating out of control. He’d never done anything like this. Held hands... danced with a guy? Hell, he wasn’t that comfortable holding hands with girls. Slowly, he let Dean tug him through the crowd, excitement and fear vibrating through his entire body.

* * *

Dean could see the indecision warring in Sam’s eyes. The excitement. The slight fear. But Sam wasn’t afraid of him, not directly anyway. There was no way for the young man to sense what he really was. No, what Sam was really afraid of was letting go. Giving in to temptation. Dean could push harder of course. He could _make_ Sam give in to him. Agree to give him anything that Dean wanted, but what was the fun in that? It was so much more satisfying when the innocent allowed themselves to be corrupted willingly.

He kept his eyes locked on Sam’s. Even when the young man shook his head slightly, almost but not quite refusing him, Dean didn’t look away. Dean’s eyes followed the brief flicker of the young man’s tongue across his lips and almost groaned. What he wouldn’t give to taste those soft looking lips for himself, to follow Sam’s tongue back into his mouth and explore with his own. Soon… he promised himself… Dean knew he wouldn’t have to wait for long.

After all, he could smell Sam’s heightened arousal. He could hear his heart beating faster. The young man didn’t refuse him, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh at Sam’s words. Oh, if he only knew.

Still grinning at the young man Dean led Sam through the humans on the dance floor, never letting his grip loosen on his hand. There wasn’t much empty space on the dance floor and plenty of hands and bodies brushed up against him on their way and he knew it would be the same with Sam. Until Dean finally stopped and turned to the young man, tugging Sam in close, wrapping his other arm around the other man’s waist. Holding Sam so close he could feel the heat of the young man’s body through his clothes he started to dance, swaying them both to the pulse of the music.

“Move with me…” Dean all but purred, his lips barely an inch away from Sam’s. Staring into the young man’s eyes, they were almost all he could see. “Relax. Just let go.” 

* * *

As he was pulled through the crowd, Sam felt bodies pressing against him, touching him. Hands rubbed across his shoulders, others skimmed over his ass. Someone whispered something in his ear, he wasn’t sure what. He wasn’t sure about anything, because his entire focus was on Dean. His hand felt warm, and his grip was firm. He thought he felt Dean’s thumb move over his wrist and didn’t expect the lurching of his heart, or the breathless feeling. God... what was he getting himself into?

When Dean stopped suddenly, Sam found himself pulled into his arms. He gave an audible gasp as their bodies collided, licked his lips, and found that he couldn’t pull back. Sheer panic washed through him. What was he doing, he was way out of his league here.

Dean’s wolfish grin had his heart stuttering, and then he spoke. _Move with me._ Three simple words, ordinary, but the way Dean said them, it was sexy as hell and held some sort of power over Sam. It took a second or him to realize how close Dean’s face was, that only inches separated their lips. He’d never been this close to a guy, not like this... who knew it would make every nerve ending in his body fire?

It took another few seconds for him to realize that he was standing still, while Dean moved against him. An embarrassed flush warmed his cheeks and he started to sway along with his dance partner. His heart was still banging against his chest, and the longer they were this close, the worse it was getting. Hand slightly shaking, he placed it on Dean’s mid back, leaving his other arm hanging down.

The music was loud, the beat growing faster, echoing through his body. Most people were rubbing and grinding together, dirty dancing. Sam took a little comfort in the fact that Dean wasn’t like them, until he felt the guy’s leg slip between his own. “Ah...” The way Dean’s gaze was locked to his, the heat in his eyes seemed to make Sam’s insides melt, took away his powers of thought and speech. Half closing his eyes, he studied Dean under his lashes. Yeah... he had the kind of looks every guy dreamed of. He was good looking, but not girly... not at all. The type of guy that would look just as good in torn jeans as a tux.

He felt Dean’s hands start to move up and down his back, and his eyes opened suddenly. Their bodies were closer now, sliding against each other. He hadn’t even realized he was hard, that Dean’s hip kept rubbing against him every other beat. Pulling away slightly, he worked up the courage to speak. “Just dance... right?” he asked, his whisper dying at the look in Dean’s eyes. 

* * *

It was impossible for Dean not to see the fire in the young man’s eyes, they were so close. There was a hint of fear and uncertainty too, but it was overshadowed by far by heat, though he was certain that Sam would deny it if he were thinking clearly. Thankfully, whether by desire or drink, he was not thinking clearly.

At first Sam merely stood there, not moving, and Dean let his body brush up against the younger man. Their chests rubbing together, their thighs brushing, just the barest touches at first to encourage his skittish dance partner into movement. Much like a virgin receiving their first kiss, Dean’s gentle efforts finally coaxed the younger man to respond to him.

Dean smiled as Sam began to sway to his lead, even wrapping an arm around him, and he responded by guiding the young man a little closer to him. Sam’s heart was hammering in time to the beat of the music and Dean could practically hear the sound of the young man’s blood rushing through his veins. Rushing south, and he felt the proof of the young man’s growing desire brush against his thigh.

Growing bolder Dean let his hands slide down Sam’s back to the swell of the young man’s buttocks. Sam’s almost startled look, as though he just realized what he was doing, what he was letting Dean do to him, hell, maybe he had only just realized it, was positively endearing. Dean smiled at Sam’s question that at this point sounded not so much of a question but an offer.

Dean leaned in even closer to Sam, his hands moving down those few last inches to slide over the curve of the young man’s ass. Tugging Sam those last few millimeters to him so that they were pressed flush together from chest to groin, still swaying together to the beat of the music. Their faces so close now he couldn’t even see Sam’s face anymore but he could feel the young man’s breath against his lips as he knew Sam could feel his as he spoke.

“Is that all you really want?”

* * *

Not a real difficult question, it just required a 'yes' or a 'no.' And yet, standing so close, close enough to draw in the scent of Dean's light cologne with ever breath he took, close enough slip slide against Dean and feel the warmth of his body seeping through his clothes, Sam had a damned hard time thinking. The sensuous throb of the music, the way Dean was holding him, the seductive tone of his voice, all of it were guiding Sam toward one answer, robbing him of the ability to make a choice.

_It's 'yes.'_

_No it's not._

_Then how come your lips are burning._

_Shut up._

Even his own mind was conspiring against him now. Great.

Sam's hand slipped down Dean's back to not quite the curve of his ass, he didn't have that much courage, but his heart was still out of control and he was struggling against the need to pull Dean close, the way Dean was doing to him.

He should say no. He should thank Dean for the dance, pull away, and go wait for his friends at the bar. But his legs weren't cooperating. His mind wasn't listening. And if it was possible to have a tide inside your body, it kept pulling him toward Dean. He'd never felt like this, not ever. His entire body vibrating with excitement, wanting to touch a little harder, maybe to kiss him.

Sam's swallow was audible. He licked his lips. "I... I'm not sure." So warm... Dean's breath was so warm on his now wet lips. He felt a flush stain his cheeks and started to tip his head back slightly.

* * *

Dean could tell the young man in his arms was completely under the spell of desire, but he was a little surprised by just how effected he was becoming. While he’d already been craving tonight for the pleasures of the flesh that didn’t really explain the pull he felt towards this particular young man. Whether it was the striking resemblance of Sam to Samuel or how stunningly innocent the young man seemed for his age, Dean wasn’t sure he had ever desired a mortal as much as he desired this one right now.

Enough that he knew if Sam refused him that none other would do tonight to sate his lust. Even more shocking perhaps he knew if Sam _did_ refuse him he would not simply take the boy, because that would not satisfy him either. He wanted Sam to want this, to want him, beg for him…

He could practically feel the indecision warring within the young man. So Dean gave Sam the gentlest nudges towards the decision he wanted. Gently squeezing his buttocks, rolling his hips against the younger man’s, letting his thigh nudge the underside of Sam’s trapped cock, licking his lips and letting the young man feel the warmth of his breath. Gentle… gentle pushes… he knew if he pushed too hard Sam would simply spook and run away from him. That was the last thing he wanted.

When he felt the young man’s hands slide down his back, Dean practically purred.

“I want you to be sure…” Dean whispered, barely more than a breath, and brought their lips together. The first brush so soft and brief at first it could have been an accident, but then he did it again, and again. Each time lingering a little longer. Just the soft touch of lips and breath, until he could resist no longer. Let one of his hands slide up to cup the back of the young man’s neck and bringing them together for a kiss so hot it was a wonder they both didn’t burst into flames. 

* * *

The fact that Dean wasn't insisting reassured Sam just a little more, but while the words were soothing, Sam couldn't say the same about the way Dean moved, or touched, or made him feel. Their lips touched... maybe they bumped together... whatever it was, it made Sam's mouth burn... ache for another touch. He was glad the music covered the soft whimper that broke from him, and maybe the dancing covered the fact he'd leaned in a little more.

Each time it happened, each time their lips met... slid past each other, the ache sharpened. It wasn't just his lips now, it was his whole body, like something was tightening low in his belly, twisting... twisting a little more, like he was going to explode if Dean didn't kiss him. The next time Dean's mouth stopped over his, Sam parted his lips, licked the seam of his own but accidentally touched Dean's lips. Oh God... oh God it felt good. He wanted more, and then Dean moved his mouth away again, and Sam wanted to cry. He wanted to plead. To beg...

Before the plea broke out of him, Dean gave him what he was craving. This time, when their mouths met, it wasn't accidental, or a mere slip of mouth against mouth. This time Dean pulled him close by his neck, and when their mouths met, there was no hesitation or doubt about what was happening. This man... this man he'd just met was pushing his tongue into his mouth, and Sam liked it. He liked it so much his arms tightened around Dean, one hand around his waist, the other across his back, his fingers now digging into Dean's shoulder and hip, as if he was afraid Dean would move away too fast... would leave him burning with need for more again.

Groaning as Dean tangled their tongues together, Sam forgot about everything but this moment... right here, right now. The taste of this man, the things he made him feel. He started to chase Dean's tongue with his own, could tell from his indrawn breath he was getting it right. His whole body felt flushed with heat, and he hadn't realized how wantonly he was rubbing himself against Dean, trying to get closer, not caring anymore if his erection was that obvious. All he knew was that he didn't want this to end, not ever. When Dean paused to take a breath, Sam panted out... "dancing... and kissing... okay. Made up my mind." Before Dean could answer him, he was leaning in, slanting his mouth across Dean's and demanding more kissing, more touching... more of this fever that threatened to consume him body and soul.

* * *

Sam’s lips parted for him so eagerly and the boy was just as sweet as he imagined him to be. He was so delicious. So hot. So eager. So perfect. Dean tasted of him greedily, twining his tongue with the young man’s as he held Sam close.

Dean practically forgot about everything else, a groan of pleasure escaping from his mouth into Sam’s when he felt the young man’s fingernails digging into his hip. The boy’s touch made him forget everything else. It was like they were completely alone on the dance floor. The people surrounding them, so close the occasional stranger brushed against them both, none of them mattered. Nothing else mattered.

Only Sam mattered…

They moved together, practically one body. They were all but making love on the dance floor. The throb of the music mirroring the pulsing of their hearts, fast and hard, and it was so good. Sam’s tongue chasing his own, the hard outline of the young man’s cock rubbing against him… perfect… and he wanted more, so much more.

He wanted to rip off Sam’s clothes right here and now. He wanted to touch, to taste, every inch of Sam. He wanted to guide the young man to his knees, unbutton his confining jeans and push his cock into that sweet perfect mouth, no one would even care, hell they’d probably enjoy the show.

More dancing, more kissing… oh yes… that and so much more.

“I want you.” Dean whispered when he let Sam come up for air. Slipping his hand underneath the young man’s shirt and sliding it down underneath the waistband of the boy’s jeans as he kissed his way to Sam’s ear. “Let me have you.”

* * *

Sam was lost in the erotic sensations of Dean's body pressing, rubbing against him. His hands moving over his back, his sides, touching him in ways no one ever had. His scent surrounding him, making Sam almost dizzy with need.

Their mouths were pretty much welded together, kissing, tongues dancing, chasing each other. And Sam knew, if this was on video, he'd never recognize himself. He was pretty much wantonly rubbing himself all over this handsome stranger that made him feel... both safe and in extreme danger. The dancing was... it was as dirty as he'd seen, and it had made him blush when he looked out at the dance floor from the bar. Now he was the one dancing like that, kissing like that, moaning like that.

And it was so good. It made him forget his boring little life... school... everything. His entire focus was on Dean, how he was making him feel. He tried to return the favor, tried to emulate the way the man touched him, but he kept losing his concentration. "Oh God Dean," he whispered, when the other man whispered he wanted him. Sam wanted... he really, really wanted... as he rubbed his mouth back and forth against Dean's cheek.

Then Dean's hands were under his jeans, fingers biting into his ass. _Let me have you._

Sam's heart lurched. The words crystallized the moment all of this... the touching the tasting, the kissing the dancing... what it had been leading to. No. Even if his body burned for it, even if he knew, just knew that letting Dean have him would be just as wonderful as this, his heart, his soul, his conscience, the very fibre of his being shouted 'no' and he couldn't ignore it.

Stumbling, he mumbled, "m'sorry... no... I can't... I..." Licking his lips, he staggered back, face flushed and giving an embarrassed smile, before he turned around and quickly, if not gracefully, made his way through the throng, toward the exit.

Outside the club, the cold night air did nothing to bring Sam back to his senses. His ears still rang with the thrumming music that had vibrated through his entire body. He stumbled slightly, his mouth burning, his body... God, he hated the fire analogy, but he was on fire. That man inside, Dean, he'd ignited something inside him... something Sam didn't understand.

His cock was so freaking hard, you'd think he'd been jerking off to a skin mag or something. But no, he'd been pressing himself up against Dean, wantonly rubbing against him, wanting, searching for an answer, for release. And those lips ... oh God... was it because he was drunk? Lifting his head, Sam saw headlights pass him in a blur... yeah, had to be because he was drunk. And yet, the though of their tongues tangling, the memory of Dean's hands on him, so sure, so confident... always touching him just right... it made him hot all over again.

He was a half a block away, but he turned to look at the club... whimpering under his breath at the needs still gripping him. Dean's voice kept washing over him. _I want you. Let me have you._ No, no, no, he couldn't do that. But a staggered step in the wrong direction had him turning and running before he could change his mind.

* * *

The shock of Sam pulling away from him was a little like the first time he'd had his skin peeled off his bones on the rack in hell. The sheer amount of pain had been so intense he'd forgotten to even scream at first. The sudden loss of the young man's body against his own was also so shocking that he forgot to even try to hold onto Sam, and then he was gone, disappearing through the throng of writhing bodies as though he'd never been there at all.

"Sam!" Dean called after the younger man, pushing his way through the people on the dance floor, roughly shoving some of the mortals that blocked his path.

"Hey, what the fuck is your problem…" One man complained angrily, grabbing his arm, until Dean turned with a snarl and the man let go of him abruptly, stumbling away in fright. Dean's cold black eyes followed the man for only a split second before he turned back to look for Sam, finally pushing his way off the dance floor, but he could not see the young man anywhere. He was gone…

Rage barely began to cover what he was feeling. He was angry, certainly, that he had been refused. But the… loss… he felt frankly staggered him. No one had refused him for so long he could barely remember the last time… if there even had been. Yet this young mortal had not only refused him, but the fact that Sam had affected him so in the first place, making him want him more than he'd ever wanted anyone before, and then refusing him…

Dean went back to the bar. He'd found Sam there in the first place and the young man had said he was waiting for friends. But he could see even before he got there that Sam wasn't there. Cursing, Dean turned around again to search for the younger man when the bartender called out to him.

"Hey, Dean! Your friend forgot his wallet."

Dean almost ignored the man but went back to the bar and took it from the bartender with a quick nod before he started towards the exit. It certainly wouldn't hurt if he had something that Sam wanted. Unfortunately his hopes that he might see the young man outside the club were dashed when he did not see Sam anywhere. The mortal had simply disappeared, like he was a fucking ghost instead of a man.

A growl started in the back of his throat that was barely covered by the pulse of the base coming from inside of the club.

"Hey gorgeous. You looking for a good time?" A sultry feminine voice suddenly whispered in his ear, a lusciously curved body pressing up against him from behind. He almost shoved the woman off of him in rage, but he knew he would need relief not only from the need Sam had ignited inside of him, but also his rage. This woman wouldn't satisfy him, he knew that much, but it was a start.

So he turned in the woman's arms and gave her a seductive inviting smile even though his eyes were still more black than green.

"I'm looking for a hell of a good time."

That night Dean didn't take the girl to his apartment, instead renting a room in hotel across town because he knew he was going to make a mess and he was in no mood to clean it up. First he'd made her scream in pleasure as he fucked her every way possible. Then he'd made her scream in an entirely different matter.

When he was done and he took a shower to wash off the blood, his body still vibrated with unspent desire and rage. He'd known she wouldn't satisfy him, and she hadn't. But at least she'd taken the edge off a bit. Let him think more clearly. He also knew nothing would satisfy him completely except Sam.

He would find the young man again and he would make him say 'yes' to him… but not yet. Dean knew he needed time to clear his head. Let the rage fade. He knew if he didn't he might hurt the young mortal without meaning to. Because he knew having the young man only once would not satisfy him either. Not one time. Not one night. He wanted Sam over and over again… and when he was finally satisfied Dean would decide whether or not to let the young man live.


	2. Chapter 2

He was mouth to mouth with Dean. Kissing him back as hungrily as the man's hands roved over his body, hardly noticing, hardly protesting as Dean stripped him down to his briefs, right there in the middle of the club, then pulled him up against his hard body, inserted a leg between his own, and started to dance oh so fucking dirty... arm around Sam's waist, pushing him back, running his palm up his bare chest and nipple as he girated, their cocks grinding.  


  
Losing all his words, his ability to speak, Sam took all of Dean's cues, not a single protest breaking from him. He didn't want any separation between them, hated it when Dean pulled away to dance him around, and was relieved and so fucking needy each time their bodies came back together. He tried to pull off Dean's clothes, but it was futile. Every time he stripped him off a jacket, something else covered Dean's body. He'd tear his shirt off, and there would be a tee shirt... another sweater... he'd open his zipper and push his jeans down, and find leather pants.

Crazy... he was being driven out of his mind crazy... by want... by the need to feel Dean's skin, just as the guy had access to him. "P... please... oh fuck.... please?" he begged, grinding his hips against Dean's...

Sam woke with a start. He was on his stomach, in his bed, fucking against the mattress. "Oh God..." he groaned and rolled over. He'd already jerked off three times. He also had a towel under him, because he'd awakened and found he'd had wet dreams, twice... What the hell was going on.

Taking deep breaths, he refused to put his hand on his aching dick. Refused to acknowledge the hard ache. Or the jade green eyes he saw... the heat in those eyes... the need that fueled his own. "No!" he whispered at the apparition in the dark. "No more."

He wasn't drunk... not anymore. He was just... oh fuck, he was so damned horny. What a way to spend his 21st birthday, humping his mattress and hand. And Dean on the dancefloor. He groaned and pulled the pillow out from under his head, and put it over his face. He was not gonna think about that anymore.

* * *  
Over the next two days, Sam had a lot of difficulty concentrating. His sleep was disturbed... he'd wake up so hard, it hurt. Then he'd fight it, sometimes for a full hour and half, but the result was always the same. He'd come to images of Dean pressing him against a wall, kissing him on that dance floor, or whispering in his ear about how he wanted to have him.

In class, the history teacher asked him what daydream he was lost in, and he felt the heat steal into his cheeks. He'd been seeing himself at that bar, with Dean pressing up behind him, grinding into his ass and discussing the weather as if he had no idea what feelings were running through Sam's body as a result... as if Sam could answer him. "N... nothing," he'd answered, giving a self conscious cough.

Later, when he'd gone to the cafeteria, he hadn't been able to find his wallet. After searching everywhere, he allowed his mind to go back to Dante's. That was the last place he'd pulled it out, when he was at the bar. Great...

After his last class, but still during the early afternoon when he knew the club wouldn't be open for business, he took a bus and got to the club. He hadn't asked for a ride because he'd had enough teasing from everyone who thought he'd probably gone home with someone that night, since he'd disappeared. They knew damn well he was in his room, he was pretty sure of it, but they had something they could tease with and weren't about to drop it in favor of the truth. His own car was ... well he'd pulled it apart and was repairing it and souping it up.

He knocked on the door and even though no one answered, he knew by the fact there were a few cars in the lot, that someone had to be inside. Persistent, and not wanting to come back another day, or when the place was in full swing and he was in danger of seeing the man who'd been haunting his dreams lately, he kept knocking and knocking.

The door finally opened. "Read the sign, we're closed."

Surprised, Sam took a step back, then smiled. "I ah... I'm jus there because I think I left my wallet, the other night."

"Wallet, alright, come in... talk to the Ricky at the bar. He's in charge of lost and found."

"M'kay," Sam followed him inside. Though the place was virtually empty, he could hear the music, feel the heat of the pressing bodies, the sexual energy that must have driven him to madness, saying 'yes' to dancing. He walked up to the bar and sort of recognized the bar tender, but wasn't sure. "I think I left my wallet here."

"Was it full of condoms?" The man gruffly asked, before turning. "Oh, you."

"No it..." Sam gripped the edge of the bar. "Oh, me what? What did I do?" Parts of the night were a bit blanked form his mind, he just hoped it wasn't embarrassing. Yeah... too late for that.

"Left your wallet?" Rick raised a brow like he was talking to an idiot.

"Right." Sam let his breath out and decided to keep his mouth shut.

"Your friend took it."

"My friend?" Sam shook his head. "No, none of them told me..."

"Dean. I guess I should say your 'new' friend," the bar tender smirked.

"Dean?" Closing his eyes, Sam took a deep breath, then reopened them. "Not really a friend. I know he comes here often, can you ask him to leave it with you and give me a call..."

"Why don't you just get it from him yourself?"

Sam's head whipped around to see where Dean was, then frowning, he looked back at the bar tender. "I don't ... he'd not here."

"No, but he lives just down the block, in the Towers. Penthouse X."

"Towers... penthouse X..." Sam shook his head, yeah he knew where the luxurious towers were, and didn't it just figure. His heart sank at the thought of facing Dean again, but since it was beating very hard against this chest at the same time, he knew there was more going on.

"He won't bite, go get it from him."

This was the moment Sam would be *Headdesking* if he were on the computer.

* * *

Sam had to give his name to the security guard in the large lobby of the tall building and tell him he was going to penthouse X. The man walked to the elevatore with him and using his key, gave him access to the floor.

The entire time the elevator was shooting upwards, Sam was questioning his sanity in coming here. One dance, and the man had totally complicated Sam's nights and days with dreams and day dreams, with questions about what he wanted out of life, his sexual orientation, with questions about those jade eyes that haunted his dreams, maybe even before the night they'd met.

The doors quietly hissed open. Walking over thickly piled carpet, he made his way to one of the three penthouses on this level. Standing outside the large door, he rubbed his wet palm against his jeans. His heart was banging so hard against his chest it was distracting. Maybe he'd be lucky... an apparently rich guy like him would have a butler, right? Or a housekeeper? Yeah... it'd be fine, he'd get his wallet from the help and never see him.

Convincing himelf, Sam knocked on the door and held his breath.

* * *

The next few days Dean had busied himself with 'work' though his thoughts never strayed very long from the young man he'd met that night in the club. He'd returned to Dante's Inferno every night but he knew he wouldn't find Sam there. Sam had run away from him after all, he didn't expect the young man to come back. In fact, he was a little surprised that he'd seen the boy there that night in the first place. Even though the boy was a splendid sexual creature, he also had an innocence to him that could not be denied.

Perhaps that was one of the things that intrigued him so about the young mortal? Beyond his striking resemblance to his long dead brother, it was certainly rare in this day and age for such a beautiful young man to be so innocent.

Samuel had been innocent… so innocent… when he'd died… when he'd been killed. Innocent in body. Innocent of the crimes he'd been accused of…

***

In the year 1603 their father had died of smallpox. Their mother had died giving birth to Samuel many years earlier. Dean had been thirteen at the time and Samuel had been nine when they'd been left alone in the world. It was difficult of course. It had been hard enough for him, Sam, and their Father to keep the farm running by themselves all those years, but with their father gone it was even harder.

In the winter of 1605, the blizzard came that lasted for weeks. It was unnatural, everyone said. They tried to stay inside most of the time but food was running low and they had to go out hunting. That was when Samuel had fallen through the ice of the river they hadn't even realized they'd been so close to. Dean had managed to pull his brother out of the freezing water and carry him home but the boy had come down with pneumonia. Despite his best efforts to care for Samuel, his brother had nearly died.

Ever since then, his brother had been so frail he could barely get out of bed some days. Dean had been left to take care of the farm on his own after that. Of course it was even harder to take care of everything without Samuel's help but he didn't care about that. He only cared that his brother had lived. Taking care of their property and taking care of his brother was all he cared about.

Samuel helped in other ways however he could. The boy had always been good at repairing things and now he made things for him to help him take care of the farm easier. The irrigation contraption his brother had designed that Dean built had actually made their crops the envy of many farmers in lands surrounding theirs.

Much to the displeasure of Mr. Myers, the wealthiest land owner in those parts at the time that had been trying to buy their land ever since their father had died. But Dean refused to sell their land, no matter how hard it was at times.

By the time Dean was twenty years old their farm was doing very well. They earned enough that he could afford to pay a couple extra hands to help around the farm. Between that and the younger boy's inventions he was able to spend much more time taking care of his brother. That was also around the time that many of the village's eligible women began to practically throw themselves at him.

Dean didn't care about any of them of course. They were only interested in his land and the money he was beginning to accumulate with it. They certainly hadn't been very interested in marrying him when he'd been just a poor farm boy on the brink of bankruptcy. They knew nothing about him. Only Samuel truly loved him. Besides, he didn't have time for a wife.

At least after a few years most of them had gotten the message and given up courting him. Unfortunately Mr. Myers, having switched tactics and instead of trying to buy his land tried to get him to marry his daughter instead, was more persistent than most. It had become so bothersome he'd finally told the girl that he would never marry her in a thousand years if she were the last woman alive, which of course had sent her away in tears, and Dean figured that would be the end of it.

How wrong he'd been…

***

Dean was pulled out of his memories by the sound of the soft knock on his door and frowned. He was not expecting anyone. He stood slowly from the plush chair by the window he'd been staring blankly out of, lost in thought, finishing off the amber liquor in his glass before setting it down.

It was not often he was surprised anymore, having lived so long. But Dean was definitely surprised when he opened the door, wearing nothing but the black silk pajama bottoms he wore to bed sometimes, and saw the very subject of his musings standing on the other side before him in flesh and blood…

"Samuel…"

No… Not Samuel, just Sam… Dean shook himself mentally and ordered himself to stop behaving foolishly. Of course it wasn't his brother. Still, it was the young man of his obsessions, and he was definitely not displeased by this turn of events.

He smiled at the young man charmingly.

"I'll admit, I did not expect to see you again. Please, come in." Dean said as he stepped aside to allow the young man to enter.

* * *

When the door opened, Sam's lips parted but no sound came out. Stare. It was all he could do after forty eight hours of dreaming, thinking, jerking off to thoughts of, trying to forget, and obsessing about, this man, and the things he made Sam feel. That night at the club, he'd been smitten, but he kept telling himself it was the drinks, the atmosphere, the euphoria of having turned twenty one. That he'd wanted to fit in with the wildness he saw around him. That he was mentally exaggerating Dean's good looks.

Exaggerating? If anything, the man looked better in the light. Made Sam's heart give an almost painful lurch. He couldn't help that he was drinking in the sight of his bare chest, noticing how well defined his muscles were, the flat stomach he'd touched on the dance floor. When his his eyes reached the waistband of the low slung black as night silk pants, and he wondered what it would have felt like if Dean had been wearing them instead of the clothes the other night, when they'd danced, he barely prevented a low moan from sounding.

Oh God... he was never gonna get any sleep now, not ever. Not after seeing him like this. Not after letting his mind go _there_. What had he done? What had he done to deserve this.

He heard Dean speak, and brought his tortured gaze up to the man's jade green eyes and felt himself flush. Did he know? Could he know the thoughts that had been running through Sam's mind?

He wet his lips with his tongue, feeling like a complete idiot. "Ah... hi," he swallowed, and glanced at the elevator behind him, then back. "I just... well I'd left my wallet at Dante's and they told me to come get it from you... here. I... I can wait here, I didn't mean to disturb you." Still, his gaze went past Dean for a second, caught a glimpse of the ultra modern apartment and the largest flat screen t.v. he'd ever seen. Hopefully the guy didn't think he was being stalked!

* * *

Dean didn’t bother to hide his amusement of the fact that Sam’s eyes strayed down low… and then even lower… The young man obviously liking what he saw and the blush that stained Sam’s cheeks when those beautiful eyes finally snapped back up was just endearing. So innocent and shy. As though they hadn’t been humping against each other, practically having sex right there on that dance floor, surrounded by dozens of people.

Of course Sam had been drunk then. Now Sam was completely sober and that just made it even better. Because Dean could see the warring emotions in Sam’s eyes. He could see how much Sam wanted him and how much he wanted to deny that want at the same time. But now the young man couldn’t blame his desire on lowered inhibitions. There was nowhere to hide from him now.

Dean smirked a little as he watched the young man searching for an escape. Ready to run, just like that night, but he certainly wasn’t about to let Sam get away from him again so easily. Besides, if the boy really wanted to get away from him, he never would have come here in the first place.

“Do I look disturbed?” Dean asked lightly, amusement dancing in his eyes as he smiled at the young man in a way to hopefully put Sam at ease. After all, he wanted the boy to come to him willingly, if at all possible. While Dean had no qualms about taking someone against their will, for Sam he knew that wouldn’t satisfy him. He wanted something different. He always got what he wanted.

“You’re in luck. I was going to mail it today. I’ll get it for you, but please come inside. I insist. You came all this way, the least I can offer you is a drink.” 

* * *

Did he look disturbed? Well did Dean walk around in sexy pajama bottoms all day or had he just rolled out of bed? Sam wasn't about to ask, even if the question was at the forefront of his mind. "Guess I saved you a trip."

Sam couldn't help smiling back, and knew damn well he was way out of his depth here, and yet these were his legs walking him past the threshold and inside. "Drink's probably a bad idea," he muttered softly, making a wry face.

Feeling the heat emanate from Dean's body, Sam was quick to move away. "Never been to a high rise apartment before," he said, looking around. If the size of the living room was anything to go by, the place had the square footage of a house. The design and furnishings, very modern and mostly deep red, black and silver, were definitely a reflection of the man who owned it. The room exuded confidence, masculinity and sex.

Sam let out a breath, maybe the sex part was just him. Then he saw the pictures on the wall, and after focusing on them for a while realized that using a few strokes, the artist had created scenes of kisses and of people making love... but it didn't jump out at you. Dragging his gaze away, he looked at the black leather sofa. It looked comfortable and was big enough to for two people to lay down on, and why was he thinking such things? Frustrated with himself, he noted the thickly piled deep red rug under the sofa. A highly polished black stone table sat on the rug too. Beyond the red carpet, the floor was a black granite.

Sam walked to the end of the room, dominated by the floor to ceiling window and looked outside at the view, and down at the street, then turned. The bar, on the opposite end of the room was black and silver, and everything gleamed. The shelving behind it was glass and displayed all sorts of glasses and one or two bottles which had lights trained on them, like they were being show show cased.

There was more glass shelving around the room and Sam had to go investigate, though he felt Dean's amused look trained on him. Dean had to be an art lover because all sorts of interesting pieces were showcased. Lacquered art, crystal blocks with internal etchings, one of them depicting an orgy... Sam's gaze shifted to Dean's, then he quickly moved away from that dispaly and looked at the most unique art he'd seen. It was a picture, but it was projected onto the wall. There was no canvas, and he couldn't see the projector.

"Are you an art dealer or something?" Sam asked, when he really wanted to ask Dean what he did for a living. When his gaze met Dean's, he felt another flush climbing his cheeks. Dammit, he was going to have to get this under control. No, because after one little drink, he was out of here, and hopefully... he wouldn't see the guy in his dreams. _Yeah... fat chance._ He looked better in the light, if that was possible.

* * *

Saved him a trip. Indeed. Since Dean had no intention of actually mailing the wallet to the young man, rather, showing up on his doorstep much like Sam had shown up on his. No reason to give Sam any alarm however and make the boy think that he was ‘stalking’ him or something. Dean almost had to laugh at that thought. If Sam truly had any idea what he’d gotten himself into that night in the club he would be wishing that Dean was merely a creepy stalker person.

Instead, Sam walked calmly inside, the prey walking directly into the predator’s den. Though Dean couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as the young man quickly hurried out of his personal space. It was kind of adorable the way Sam was still so skittish even after what he’d done that night, rubbing against him on the dance floor like he was in heat. Perhaps a little something extra in that drink to help the young man relax wouldn’t be a bad idea Dean thought with a grin as he shut and locked the apartment door.

As Sam appraised the various items in his apartment Dean went over to the bar to fix them both a drink. The expression of fascination on the young man’s face hitting a cord of deep familiarity inside of him that he couldn’t decide if it was welcome or not. Samuel… his brother… he’d often worn the same expression whenever he was taking something apart, figuring out how it worked, then putting it back together even better than before. He wondered if Sam was trying to figure _him_ out the same way his brother tried to figure out how things worked.

The similarities between this man and his brother… he could not deny it unnerved him a little as much as it intrigued him. Awakening feelings inside of him he thought long dead and buried.

Dean’s mouth quirked in amusement when Sam viewed the ‘naughtier’ pieces of his collection and the way the innocent young man blushed. Enticing without meaning to be. Sam was lucky Dean did not simply grab him and push him to the floor and take him right where he stood. Instead Dean merely approached the young man and handed him the drink he’d made. A nice little concoction of his own design he’d perfected over the years, it would go down very smoothly but would definitely help the boy relax.

“No, merely a collector. I like beautiful things.” Dean replied with a shrug, taking a sip from his own glass. “You could say I’m a consultant. I make sure people get what they want. How about you? I know you’re a student, what are you studying?”

* * *

Dean's voice washed over Sam, low and husky, sending odd sensations through Sam, especially the way he said _I like beautiful things_. Yeah he knew Dean didn't, couldn't mean him, but everything about the guy screamed sex and it just made Sam's mind travel that path, even when the guy was saying something completely innocent. Lifting the glass to his mouth, he took a couple long sips, the licked the shiny liquor off his lips. He didn't recognize the flavor, it was just a little sweet, and not strong... not like that stuff he'd had at the nightclub. This would maybe take the edge off, make him act less the bumbling dork, and help him get through this.

"It's good," he said, taking another little sip. "So a consultant. That must be nice, you get control over your hours." Which explained being in pajama pants at this time of the day. The guy looked like a freaking movie star, but he wasn't girly at all. There was something rugged about him, despite the almost perfect features.

"I'm an engineering major," he gave a shrug, knowing in comparison to all this, it was boring if nothing. "I like to build stuff so... learning the theory behind it." In a way, he was doing things backwards. He already knew how to make a lot of things, and had no trouble building without plans. Now he was learning why things worked, the principles behind certain designs. "It's probably just a little more fascinating than being an accounting major," he said with a slightly nervous laugh. "Is that what you thought? Accounting?"

* * *

Dean’s eyes followed the path of Sam’s glass and lingered on the young man’s lips, the way that tantalizing pink tongue darted out, teasing him. Yes, he was staring, and he didn’t even make an attempt to hide that fact. Didn’t really matter anyway since the young man was pretty much avoiding his gaze anyway.

“I’m glad you like it.” He replied casually, smiling. Though his smile faded somewhat when Sam mentioned that he was an engineering major. Liked to build things...

Like Samuel. Dean tried to refuse the words that came unbidden into his mind, but how could he? Like Samuel, everything about this young mortal was like Samuel. Sam looked like Samuel. Exactly like him. Down to the mole on his cheek and the shade of his eyes. Sam's voice sounded exactly the same as his long dead brother’s. Hell, they even shared the same _name_.

If he didn’t know better he would have assumed this man was some kind of Trojan horse sent by his enemies to throw him off. But as much as he almost wished that were the case, he knew it wasn’t. For starters, his enemies knew that he was not nearly so sentimental. If any of them had any idea about his human life and the reason he was damned to hell, unlikely, they also knew they would sniff out any treachery within seconds of Sam’s arrival. Second, and the more telling reason, he knew Sam was only human. Not demon, shape shifter, or created by magical means. Just a mortal... with his brother’s name, face, and voice...

Dean reached out and gently caught the younger man’s chin, turning Sam’s face to look at him. Looking deep into the young man’s eyes. Windows to the soul... or so they said.

“Samuel...” Dean whispered, almost questioningly. “I am not sure what to think of you... yet.” 

* * *

Sam was startled by Dean's sudden touch. His breath caught as the guy forced him to look into his face, to meet those beautiful jade eyes that had haunted him for the last few days. Not days... years.... He'd seen them before, in dreams. And now he realized, in nightmares.

Swallowing, he didn't dare pull away as he fought his ghosts _alone_ , just as he always had. Then Dean's cryptic words washed over him and Sam had no answers. "I'm... I'm not sure what you mean. I'm no mystery," he gave a low snort, tried to act casual, but how could he? When Dean was still holding his jaw and searching his eyes so intently.

A knot formed in his stomach. He wondered what Dean saw, what he thought. He'd probably laugh so hard if he knew that Sam had been thinking about him, been suffering from too many hard ons. Heart banging against his chest, Sam started to sway toward Dean, eyes starting to shut.

Alarm bells rang in his head. This wasn't what he was here for. This man was out of his league, not to mention a corrupting influence. He pulled back suddenly, looking away, his cheeks on fire. He took a deep breath and managed to force himself to turn back. "Seriously. If anyone is a mystery, it's you."

He groaned. It wasn't even internal, he'd groaned out loud. Huffing, he looked down at the drink in his hand. "I don't think I should be trusted with liquor. Sorry." God, it was a wonder Dean wasn't walking him to the door already.

* * *

Dean could tell he’d made the young man nervous and he released the boy when Sam pulled away from him slightly. Letting him look away, but even though Sam tried to act casually, he couldn’t hide from him. He could practically feel the turmoil in the young man. The confusion, desire, and fear all rolled into one. The excitement… the way the boy leaned into him, wanting him, needing him, even if he would deny it vehemently even to himself later on…

He smiled at the young man in a way meant to put the mortal at ease.

“I think you’re more than you pretend to be, Sam.” Dean said casually enough, though there was a wealth of meaning behind his words… if Sam chose to examine them. Chances are the boy wouldn’t. Not yet anyway. Later though, when he was alone and thinking about him…

Dean merely chuckled warmly at the young man’s apology, stepping closer into his personal space. Almost as close as they’d been dancing last night as he set his own glass down on the table next to them, then took Sam’s from him and did the same.

“Maybe you just deny yourself too much.” Dean all but purred as he slipped his arm around the young man’s waist, drawing him closer still. 

* * *

What did Dean think he was pretending to be? Why did it bother him that an almost stranger might think he was some kind of liar or actor? He bit his lip and tried to gather his thoughts, which was almost impossible, especially once Dean crowded his space. When his drink was taken away, he turned questioning eyes to Dean's. Before he could get a word out, he was being tugged almost up against Dean's body.

His mouth dropped open, his breath wooshing out. His senses were swimming, every nerve in his body vibrating... his stomach fluttering in a way that Sam couldn't even say whether it was a good feeling or a bad one. This man's effect on him was... it was powerful, and he couldn't understand why. Why did he affect him this strongly? And why the hell did he feel both trapped, and freer than he'd ever been, when he was with him?

"I..." Sam licked his lips. He knew what he wanted. He wanted to put his own arms around the guy, see how real that night had been. Wanted to know if sliding his body against Dean's was as magical... as addictive and sensation as he remembered, as he constantly dreamed about. "I'm not..." he shook his head. "Not pretending anything. I... it's not denial..."

The heat in Dean's eyes raked over him, made him feel kind of weak. Fuck... this was ridiculous. He wasn't some teenage girl. Sam put his hand between them, his palm against Dean's chest. The protective measure backfired. Dean's muscles rippled under Sam's hand, making him even more sharply aware of the man. His skin was so damn hot and there was no way to ignore the jolt of electricity that went up his arm at the first touch.

"Dean I... I can't do this," he said, his voice a bare whisper. "I'm not who you think I am." He was sure that Dean was in the habit of picking up guys, maybe girls too, at Dante's, and that he thought Sam was like his regular pick ups. A part of Sam wished he were like that. The part of him that started to push away, though his eyes spoke of anguished need for something he didn't quite understand.

* * *

Sam’s denial, how the boy was almost offended, by Dean’s words was amusing. He wondered if the young man was always so modest, and had always thought himself so ordinary. Perhaps Sam had no idea just how special he was. Or maybe he was just lying to himself as much as he was lying to Dean. Telling him, telling himself, he didn’t want him when it was plainly obvious that Sam did.

Sam wanted him, wanted this, it was clear in every line of the young man’s body. In his eyes that practically begged for him. Almost pleading… and at the same time pushing him away. Or at least trying to, Sam never actually got that far, the hand that he placed between them only keeping Dean from moving any closer.

Dean covered Sam’s hand on his chest with his own, letting his fingers brush lightly over the young man’s and holding it there. Sam’s palm resting practically over his heart even when the young man finally began to pull away from him and Dean let him go. All but that one touch.

“I think you’re special. That’s why I like you.” Dean replied, then smiled more casually at the boy when he finally released his hand. He wasn’t trying to spook Sam, after all, but that’s exactly what he had done. Too intense… he had to tone it down. Small, gentle, pushes would bend the young man to his will. Too hard, too fast, would send him running.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Let me make it up to you? Let me take you to dinner. I’d really like to get to know you better.” 

* * *

If his heart could have leapt out of his chest, it would have, the instant Dean's hand came over his own. It was so... so intimate, standing there, with his hand trapped between Dean's chest and hand, feeling the strong beat of his heart, standing close enough to breathe in his familiar light after shave. He could feel the weight of Dean's gaze, even after he looked away and started to move, and when his hand wasn't released, he turned and looked back at Dean.

Almost gently, his hand was released, and the intense look in Dean's eyes seem to melt away. He was smiling now, in reassurance? Sam was unsure, but the knot in his stomach slowly loosened and he could breath again.

An embarrassed smile lifted one corner of Sam's mouth as he shook his head at the notion that he was 'special.' It had to be a line, had to be... they hardly knew each other. And yet, despite the smoothness of this man, Sam felt he was being sincere. And yeah, he could also have honed the sincerity act, but if Sam listened to every argument inside his head, he was going to end up at the looney bin.

"No, it's fine. You didn't make me uncomfortable," he said quickly. It wasn't a total lie. It wasn't the things that Dean was doing that were making him uncomfortable, it was his reactions. "Nothing to apologize ab--"

Dinner? The guy was asking him out. Yeah... he was, he really was. So not just a pick-up, was that the message? Sam ran a hand through his hair, trying to think. He just wasn't used to this, this kind of attention, especially from a guy. He flashed back to the dance floor. To the kissing. Did he want more, or should he just run.

_How far can you run before your dreams catch up with you?_

"M'kay. Dinner," he nodded. "Somewhere not expensive," he added, afraid Dean would select a place way above his pocketbook. Also, he didn't want it to look like he was being a sponge or... or that it was a dinner for sex arrangement. "Just..." he licked his lips and forced himself to meet Dean's gaze. "Just to get to know each other better...right?"

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but grin in amusement when Sam’s words suddenly cut off mid sentence, the young man obviously shocked by his offer. He wondered if the boy had ever been asked out on a date before by a man. Probably not. Or if he had, then Sam had never considered saying ‘yes’ before. But now Dean could see the dilemma in the young man’s eyes. Dean didn’t push. Not even in the subtle way he could bend mortals to this will. He wanted this to be Sam’s choice…

When the young man finally agreed, Dean let his genuine pleasure show.

“Great. Dinner and maybe a movie, nothing fancy. No strings attached. I promise. If you hate me, you never have to see me again.” Dean replied, smiling as he held his hands up in sincerity and crossed his heart. Then he waved a hand toward his living room couch.

“Just lemme go get changed. Have a seat. Finish your drink. I’ll be back in a minute.” Dean said, then he turned and headed towards his bedroom, though he didn’t shut the door behind him. He went to his closet, bypassing the more expensive suits he often wore when going out for something much more casual. Jeans, a plain black t-shirt, boots, and leather jacket.

Sam seemed almost intimidated by the money he had, and he wanted the boy to be able to relax around him. Drop a few of those walls he was clinging to so desperately. He fixed his hair in the mirror then grabbed Sam’s wallet off of his dresser before returning to the living room.

Dean tossed Sam’s wallet to him with a grin.

“Ready?”

* * *

Dinner and a movie, that sounded normal. Well, about as normal as it could, considering he had a _date_ with a _guy!_

Sam was real relieved to hear Dean got the message and said there were no strings, that really put him at ease. "I'm sure I won't hate you," he answered, grinning at the Dean's gestures. He got points for charming... a lot of points. And for sexy. And for his dress style, for knowing what to say, and God... could that man dance...

He quickly walked to the couch, before his face gave away any of his thoughts. By the time he sat down and picked up the drink, he noticed the bedroom door was open. He couldn't see much, other than it looked like there was the same color scheme, and a mirror. He could hear Dean moving around, the sound of a draw, and the unfolding of clothes. Trying not to imagine those silky black pants being pushed down Dean's sunkissed body.

Had he just thought sunkissed? Lifting the glass, he drank down to the last drop and guiltily set it down when Dean walked out.

Sam's fingers involuntarily tightened around the empty glass. Hot didn't cover the way Dean looked, and all he was wearing was jeans and a tee. The dark clothing was a perfect contrast to his slightly tanned skin, and it seemed to bring his eyes out even more.

Instinctively catching the wallet with one hand, he grinned back. Never mind that though he wasn't ordinarily a clutz, he damn well could have been right now, the way he'd been staring at Dean. "Ready," he answered, standing up.

As he crossed the room, he halfway wondered whether he should drop his over shirt. Then he decided to forget about it, he'd take Dean at his word about going casual. As he waited outside the door, for Dean to lock it up, the scent of leather mixed with cologne reached him. He gripped the door frame and gave a goofy smile, hoping the guy hadn't noticed him leaning in a little.

Alright Winchester, get your act together, he told himself as they walked toward the elevator. The doors wooshed open, and he stepped inside.

Dean punched the button to the lower level garage. When they stepped out, it was like the entry way to a hotel, with valet people there. One of them exchanged looks with Dean and ran off to get his car. The other cars being brought to their owners were high end vehicles, Range Rovers, Maseratis, Ferarries, and even a Citroen.

Sam moved closer to one of them, and took a look inside, then stepped back next to Dean. "Cherry red 1967 convertible corvette," he said. Since he'd been looking at the Ferrari, the perplexed look from Dean was understandable. "Just guessing. Your ride," he shrugged. "I probably should have been less specific, huh?"

* * *

Dean could see that the young man definitely approved of his choice in clothing. The way the boy’s eyes practically fell out of his head as he looked him up and down head to toe. He grinned at Sam’s obvious admiration but otherwise pretended not to notice.

Instead he merely nodded and grabbed his keys on the way out of his apartment. Also pretending not to notice how Sam was kind of crowding him while he locked the door, and if he was not mistaken, _smelling_ him. Well, if Sam liked that cologne so much he was going to have to make sure he wore it more often.

The elevator took them down to the garage and Dean gave a nod to one of the waiting valets. He had plenty of cars, but unless he asked for another they all knew which one to bring him.

At Sam’s observation, Dean raised an eyebrow and then laughed, shaking his head.

“Well, you’ve got the year right, at least.” He replied as a sleek pitch black 67 Chevy Impala pulled up to the curb. Dean handed the valet a twenty as he walked around to the driver’s side of the car and got in. He waited for Sam to get in the passenger side before he grinned at the young man and gunned the engine that purred like a predator.

“Corvettes are for pussies.” Dean said before stepping on the gas and tearing out of the garage like a bat out of hell.

***

It was going to be a nice night. The air was cooling as evening fell, but it wouldn’t be chilly. Dean drove with the windows down and the volume of the radio up just on the pleasant side of too loud. Every once in a while he’d glance over at Sam sitting beside him and smile. The young man seemed to be having a good time. At least, he seemed much more relaxed.

It took them about twenty minutes to reach the coast where the restaurant he had in mind was located. Nothing fancy, just as he’d promised Sam. Just a little family owned Italian restaurant he’d discovered a few decades ago and returned to every so often. The food was exquisite but the view overlooking the ocean was pretty spectacular as well. The perfect place for a first ‘date’.

Even as he pulled into the crowded parking lot, he knew that getting a table right away wouldn’t be a problem. Leading Sam inside he discretely passed a hundred to the woman taking names for the waiting list and within five minutes they were seated right near the windows where a truly glorious sunset was spilling through.

“What do you think?” Dean asked after the waitress left to get them their drink orders. 

* * *

He'd gotten the year right, that was more than he could have hoped for as Dean's "beast" of a car was brought up. The roar of its engine was quite a contrast to the much newer cars with quietly purring engines that other people were getting into. Sam gave his nod of approval, and then almost choked at Dean's joke about vetts being for pussies.

After a few moments, he realized Dean wasn't kidding... he gunned the engine and this was the quickest Sam had ever gotten to the beach.

The small restaurant was packed, but the owners seemed to know Dean and the waitress was falling all over herself to make sure he was happy and satisfied with where they were seated. Sam gave a knowing smile - he knew just how she felt, then looked out the window. The restaurant might have an informal feel to it, but the view... it was as breathtaking as the citiscape view from Dean's apartment, only there was nothing 'city' about this one. The sun gleamed off the ocean, the waves breaking on the flat wide strip of beach. In a distance, the sun was slowly sinking into the water and leaving behind a red-gold wash of color. There were also some sail boats dotting the water, and he could see the pier.

"Hm?" He turned quickly as he hadn't realized the waitress left. "It's beautiful. I love the water," he nodded. "I'm from Kansas. Hadn't seen an ocean until I came here for school," he shrugged. "Now I've gotten certified and go scuba diving anytime I can. I was at Catalina island a couple weeks ago." Before he knew it, Sam was telling Dean about his encounters with octopuses and a shark, and getting separated from his diving group one stormy day.

When the time the waitress brought them their drinks, he gave an embarrassed chuckle. "I haven't looked at the menu yet," and as soon as she left, he looked at Dean,"didn't realize how much I was talking. I'm not usually this chatty, I swear. What do you do for fun?" He pulled the menu over ans started to flip through it. 

* * *

Dean grinned at the look of almost awe on the young man’s face and realized Sam was so captivated by the view that he hadn’t even heard him. Dean had to admit. He was a little captivated as well, but not by the view and he kind of liked that Sam was so distracted that he didn’t even notice the way Dean’s eyes drank in the sight of him. The young man would probably only get shy and embarrassed again if he did.

Beautiful… yes he was.

As Sam went on to chat away about some of the things he liked doing… scuba diving, of all things, he’d never have imagined that… Dean couldn’t help but smile. He liked the fact that the boy was obviously beginning to relax around him, and this time without the effects of alcohol. Well, not much alcohol anyway.

It was really too bad that Dean couldn’t offer to join the young man in something he obviously enjoyed doing so much. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t like the ocean, or water in general, but salt water and demons didn’t exactly mesh well. He probably couldn’t even risk going to the beach with the young man the way his skin would sizzle and burn if he got even a little bit of salt water on him. Hell, that close to the water he’d be uncomfortable even from the salt in the air from the ocean. This was about as close as he dared to get.

Dean chuckled a little as well when Sam mentioned that he hadn’t even looked at the menu, not that he really minded at all. He liked listening to the boy talk. It was like… hearing his brother’s voice again so happy and carefree. Samuel could talk his ear off and Dean always loved sitting by his bedside and listening to him go on and on about his latest invention or whatever like he would never run out of breath. Dean liked it… sometimes he feared that the memory of his brother alive was fading from him, like everything else had. His sharpest memories of hearing his brother screaming, dying in agony…

“Me? Well, I’m afraid I don’t spend a lot of the time near the ocean. Hydrophobic, I’m afraid.” Dean replied, giving the young man a slightly sheepish smile before he picked up his drink and took a sip.

“My job keeps me busy, but it also allows me to travel quite a bit. England, Germany, Italy, Australia, being a few of the places I’ve been this year alone. I like art… and music, I play the guitar. Some weekends I am invited to high class ritzy parties and others I enjoy spending a Sunday at home watching a good football game and drinking beer. I’ll admit I also like clubs, like Dante’s. It’s nice sometimes to just let all of your inhibitions go and enjoy life to the fullest, don’t you think?”

* * *

He liked Dean's voice. A lot. And how crazy was that? To be captivated by the sound of someone speaking? But there was no doubt about it, the low, husky tones coming from Dean seemed to send tingles of excitement through him. Besides, it wasn't as if he could forget how deep the man's voice could get when he was turned on or trying to persuade. Just thinking of the things he'd said on the dance floor, the way he'd said them had Sam having to force himself to breath.

He'd never gone anywhere. California, that was his first trip away from home. Yet Dean had been everywhere. As he listened, he asked a few questions about the countries Dean had gone to, and then stupidly mentioned he didn't even have a passport. Dean didn't seem to think it odd, or didn't make him feel like a country bumpkin... no, he was doing to good of a job on himself!

Guitar? Well now that wasn't something he'd expected. His flashed a grin as he started to ask whether Dean sang too, but then Dean casually brought up his clubbing, and Dante's, and to top it off, almost had Sam swallowing his tongue with his talk of 'letting go of inhibitions'.

He felt the heat rise to his cheeks, but forced himself to meet jade eyes. "You mean us... me... that night?" Yeah, Dean had been more general, but Sam wasn't a complete idiot. He licked his lips. "I had fun but..." he ran his hand through his hair. "That's not really me. I don't..." he shook his head. "Don't get out that much, or when I do, I don't, you know?" He couldn't make himself finish that sentence and boy was he glad to see the waitress on her way back to get their orders.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but be amused when Sam started to blush and he hadn’t even really been trying to get the young man to blush this time. Sam really was adorable when he got all flustered and embarrassed. He could just imagine how the beautiful boy would look spread out and naked in his bed, his whole body flushed an enticing pink with both embarrassment as well as arousal..

When the boy asked him to ‘clarify’ if he’d been talking about the two of them that night at Dante’s, Dean merely smiled and shrugged. Wasn’t normally like that? Like what? Slutty? Dean chuckled a little to himself. Yeah, he had pretty much guessed that on his own. If the boy wasn’t a virgin, Dean would be very surprised. The young man didn’t seem to be a prude, but he was definitely… repressed.

How could a young man as stunning as Sam looked be so unsure of himself and his looks? He must understand how attractive he was. The affect he had on others… certainly he had to have had offers of sex before from both men and women. But Sam behaved as though he’d never had this kind of attention before.

“I understand. But there’s nothing wrong with relaxing and just cutting loose every once in a while, you know? You should try it more often. You’d probably like it. life’s too short to spend it worrying what other people think.” Dean replied, grinning a little at the young man before he turned his attention to the waitress.

“I’ll have the lobster ravioli with Alfredo sauce.” Dean said without even looking at the menu then looked at Sam. “You should definitely try the Alfredo, they make it fresh here.” 

* * *

Sam let out a sigh of relief when Dean didn't make fun of him or say something that would get him uptight. Dean was right, he did worry a lot about what other people would think about him. Like that night on the dance floor, he'd wanted to do more, but he kept worrying about his friends seeing, or someone snapping a pic, or what his parents would have thought if they were alive or... well the list was endless.

He listened to Dean put in his order and make his suggestion. "I like tomato sauce--"

"Marinara," the waitress corrected.

"Yeah. I'll have angel hair pasta with marinara." He gave her a smile, then looked back at Dean after she left. "But I'll try a bit of yours. Unless you're not into the sharing thing," he added quickly, realizing Dean wasn't some college kid, and he might not like splitting. Then he thought about how it might look to eat from the same plate, kinda intimate. Was he giving off to many of those signals. Oh God, he wished he could shut off his mind and do what Dean said, just enjoy the moment.

He picked up his glass of wine and took a sip, deciding right there and then that the drinks he'd been given at Dante's and the Dean had mixed up for him were much better. He felt Dean's gaze on him and quickly tried to cover by taking another sip, this time keeping his face neutral.

"So guitar. Do you sing too?" he asked, thinking how sexy Dean's raspy voice might be when accompanied by music. He remembered only too well how much it had affected him when they'd been dancing, and Dean's voice had dropped and octave. "I used to do a little drumming." Maybe they had something in common, something more than this... this crazy heat between Sam felt burning between them.  


* * *

  


Dean couldn't help but smile when Sam decided to order something different. That was his Samuel, always wanting to do things his own way. The smile slipped from Dean's face for a second with that thought because this man, of course, wasn't his Samuel… couldn't be… Samuel's soul was far beyond his reach. Surely gone to heaven. Beyond his reach forever…

No matter how much this young man reminded him of Samuel, surely it could not truly be his brother.

"I don't mind sharing." Dean reassured the young man, his smile returning. Then he was a bit surprised when Sam asked him if he could sing. As a matter of fact, he could. A little off key but not so much most would complain. Samuel had never complained…

He had often sung his little brother to sleep, singing the boy some of the songs that their mother had sung to Dean. It often made his heart ache that Samuel had never been able to hear them sung in their mother's beautiful voice.

Sometimes Dean still sung them… when he was alone. Afraid perhaps he'd forget them if he didn't. But he hadn't sung for anyone else since…

Dean took drink from his own wine glass before he sat back a little and began to sing his brother's favorite lullaby.

"Where dips the rocky highland  
Of sleuth wood in the lake  
There lies a leafy island  
Where flapping herons wake  
The drowsy water rats  
There we've hid our fairy vats  
Full of berries  
And of reddest stolen cherries.

Come away oh human child  
To the waters and the wild  
With a faery hand in hand  
For the world's more full of weeping  
Than he can understand…"

When he had finished the last of the lyrics he was a bit surprised to hear some light applause from some of the tables next to theirs. Dean laughed and raised his glass, acknowledging the applause, then took another drink from his glass. Hoping he had not just embarrassed the young man across from him too terribly.  


* * *

  


Sam was completely entranced. His lips parted, he leaned forward as if to catch every word, his eyes searching Dean's, trying to see clear to his soul. The lyrics were both strange and wonderful, and a little creepy, though he didn't understand all of it. He tried to commit some of it to memory... something about it, something about how Dean was singing it... teased his memories. It was like he should know what came next, and like Dean's voice had some strange power over him.

He felt a blush steal along his cheeks with the knowledge that it looked like he was being serenaded, and that others had noticed and were listening in. He had to admit though, it felt good. Made him feel special in a way he hadn't ever before. And yeah, sure, he wasn't unrealistic. He got that Dean was showering his attention on him for a reason, and that he probably did the same for any other 'date' he took out. He was just that kind of guy, having the knack to make the other person feel good. But that was okay, Sam would just enjoy the feeling... and he did.

The way Dean sang, his low raspy voice, the way he didn't look away from him... it had Sam's stomach muscles tightening. One part of him was thinking if Dean sang that to him when he was sleeping, it might take the nightmares away. Another part told him, if that voice were singing to him, if Dean were anywhere near him when he was in bed, there'd be no sleeping going on. The man was just that... sexy.

His eyes fell to Dean's lips, following his tongue as he moistened his lips and continued to the end of the song. Sam smiled, his smile broadening at the sound of clapping. "You do sing," he nodded, "very well. I... I liked it, the song. Gonna have to use my google-fu on it, it's kinda..." he waved his hand around, "familiar, but not." Shrugging, and hoping that made sense, he realized he'd been leaning forward, and sat back. "Maybe from some movie, or something."

He saw something in Dean's eyes. He wasn't sure what it was, but it felt like a question silently coming at him. He wished he had an answer, but he didn't even know what Dean was asking. Sam wanted to laugh at himself, his flights of fancy. Dean was probably just looking at him, simple as that. "My mom wanted me to be in a church choir when I was a kid." He took his glass, and finished the contents, then set it down. Didn't taste so bad anymore, so that was good. "They threw me out," he said with an embarrassed chuckle. "Can't hold a tune."

* * *

Though Dean could see the light flush on Sam’s cheeks the young man seemed far from embarrassed by the attention, in fact he seemed pleased. Though Dean couldn’t help feeling slightly… disappointed. He couldn’t deny that he’d hoped the young man would find the song… familiar… but that didn’t seem to be the case. Sam had seemed almost entranced by the melody, much like his brother had been every time Dean had sung it to him, but the young man did not seem to find it familiar in any way.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Dean replied anyway, giving the young man a smile despite his disappointment which of course wasn’t Sam’s fault. It was Dean who was being ridiculous. No matter how much this young man reminded him of Samuel, he wasn’t…

But as Sam went on, Dean froze and he couldn’t help but wonder if the young man had actually said what he thought he said or if he was only hearing what he wanted to hear. Well, hell might have changed him but Dean wasn’t insane… yet. At least not insane enough to be hearing things and his ears were working fine.

Though Sam’s face hadn’t betrayed any familiarity with the song… could it be?

Dean chuckled softly when Sam mentioned how he could not sing but it was actually very difficult for him right now to keep that calm façade in place when his mind was a whirlwind of questions. The first and foremost was how could this be? Was it really Samuel? His brother’s soul reborn? How? Why now? After so long…

“I don’t think it is from a movie. My mother used to sing it to me as a child. When she passed away, I sung it to my brother. It was his favorite lullaby.” Dean finally said, throwing caution to the wind. If the song was familiar to Sam… 

* * *

"I don't think its from a movie either," Sam easily agreed. "I don't know where I know it from. But your mom, she must have a good voice because that song... definitely hard to sing." He played with the stem of his empty glass, which the waitress came over and refilled for him. "You have a brother?" He bit his lip, and raised his eyes. "Sorry about your mom. I lost my parents last year," he swallowed the lump that threatened to rise in his throat. "I don't have any brothers or sisters."

He wished he did. It was real weird being all alone in the world, with no family. He tried not to think about it, always pushing it from his mind. "I have an uncle but he's not..." He felt tears sting his eyes and was very glad when the waitress brought their salads and an appetizer. He hadn't even realized Dean had ordered it.

Forcing his darker thoughts out of his head, he forced a smile and was determined to have fun. The man sitting across from him was 'fun' incarnate, so it wouldn't be so hard. "Pass me the salt?" As he took the shaker, their fingers brushed. A jolt of heat tingled up his arm, and his eyes snapped up to Dean's for a second.

Looking down, he salted the salad, and reached for a mozzarella stick, which h dipped into the tomato sauce and took a bite. Just his luck, not only was the cheese so hot he had to suck some air into his mouth to cool it off, but the hot melted cheese pulled into a string and he probably looked ridiculous twisting the string around the part of the stick remaining in his hand before managing to cut it with his front teeth. "M'sorry," he mumbled, wiping his mouth.

* * *

Dean smiled fondly at the young man across from him when Sam mentioned his mother’s voice, and he found himself repeating the words he’d once told Samuel so long ago.

“She had the most beautiful voice in the world, like an angel. I wish you could have heard her sing.” He said softly, though Dean’s smile faded somewhat when Sam questioned him about his brother. It was so ironic that this boy would ask such a question. Especially when Dean was starting to truly believe that the spirit of his long dead brother might actually be sitting across from him right now.

When Sam mentioned that he had lost his parents as well, had no brothers or sisters, Dean couldn’t deny he was pleased by that. No family meant that the young man could slip off the face of the earth and few would probably notice, if any. That would make things easier…

Though the shimmer in the young man’s eyes told him he’d definitely hit on a sensitive subject talking about family. Just as well, the subject was just as sensitive to him and Dean did not particularly wish to speak of his family either.

When the waitress brought them their appetizers Dean smiled as the young man dug right in and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the young man’s difficulty with the food. At Sam’s apology, Dean merely snorted and waved it off.

“You need to learn to stop apologizing for everything.” Dean said, reaching for the plate and grabbing a stick for himself and making a big show of taking a bite and then trying to stretch the cheese as far as he could. Tilting his head back and chewing the long string of cheese all the way to the source before popping the remainder of the stick in his mouth.

“Told you they had great food here.” He said with his mouth full. 

* * *

Sam smiled, then laughed at Dean, knocking his knee lightly against the other man's as he recognized that Dean was half mocking and half putting him at ease. Course he was pretty sure that he hadn't looked half that sexy struggling with his cheese stick. Dean on the other hand, hell... he practically made love to it before sucking it inside him mouth.

The effect was ruined by Dean talking around the food in his mouth, but Sam decided it only made Dean more endearing... a regular guy.

"Yeah, it's really great," he agreed. They talked a little bit about their favorite restaurants and Sam was surprised by Dean's fast food choices. After he gave a couple examples, Sam shook his head. "Seriously? That stuff will kill you. There are much better, yet fast food, places to go." He tossed out a couple, adding, "green is good for you."

Their food arrived, and Sam didn't know if it was the wine or the company, but he really did unwind. He even speared food from Dean's plate, reminding the guy he'd agreed to share, then nodded. "It's good, but mine is better." Instinctively, he knew that Dean had been surprised that he hadn't ordered what Dean suggested, and that he'd liked that. Sam could see how many people would agree with whatever Dean said. Hell, he even often had to fight against doing just that, or wanting to please him for some reason.

He put his fork and knife down. "I hated the food, can't you tell?" He put his hand over his glass when the waitress came to give him more wine. "Lost count. You're gonna think I'm some sorta lush." Running his hand through his long bangs and pushing them back, he asked. "So what's your favorite movie or book, and why?"

* * *

As the meal wore on Dean decided that Sam was turning out to be quite entertaining. There were few mortals in this world that Dean could say that about. True, they had their uses and many of them _did_ entertain him… for short periods of time. But Sam was different.

Surely the fact that Sam reminded him so much of Samuel contributed to his interest in the young man. But the more he learned about Sam… just Sam… the more Dean was sure the mortal would have caught his interest even if not for that uncanny resemblance. That the young man would have kept his interest as more than just a fuck toy he would have fun making scream in pleasure and then pain before he broke him…

No. That would not be Sam’s fate… at least, not as long as he had his suspicions. For the first time Dean wondered what he would do if those suspicions proved true? What if this young man truly was his brother Samuel reincarnated? What would he do? Did that at all change the desire he had to possess the young man, to fuck that beautiful boy in every way possible?

No… it did not. At one time Dean knew the thought of bedding his sweet innocent brother would have horrified him but… he was different now. If it truly was Samuel… that only made Dean desire him more. Need him more… His brother… the one thing in this world he could say he loved… if the twisted emotion inside of him could even be called love. Surely it was as close to love as a demon could feel.

He wanted the young man. He wanted to take him. To claim the young man in every possible way and never let him go again. Sam would be his… forever… nothing would ever take Samuel away from him again.

They talked long after the meal was finished. He answered Sam’s questions and for the first time in a long while Dean actually spoke honestly about himself… well, as honestly as he could without sending the young man running terrified from him. But he wanted Sam to… like him… _him_. Sam seemed to… and that made him happy.

When the waitress came back and asked if they wanted anything else, Dean nodded.

“Bring us a slice of your chocolate cream pie, two forks.” Dean told the waitress, before turning to Sam with a grin. “We can’t leave before you try the pie. It’s to die for.” 

* * *

"You're gonna share? You sure you're not going to try to wrestle me for it?" he asked, having seen Dean practically make love to his food as he ate. Course it belatedly struck him that two forks, one plate, was intimate, and then he'd inserted his foot in his mouth with the wrestling comment. "I mean... you know what I mean," he said, laughing at himself and pulling his gaze away.

He was really full and had eaten everything off his plate. "It was really good, good Choice Dean," he said. It was true, he'd felt very comfortable, and the wine had mellowed him, taken the edge off.

They talked for a while longer, then the pie came. There was no denying it was good, but holy crap... watching Dean's mouth wrap around the fork, as he closed his eyes and practically moaned, had Sam's stomach clenching. The dreams, the needs, they weren't forgotten. Oh God... he was going to be tortured all over again, and he hadn't even been rubbing against the guy like he had when they'd been at that club.

When Dean opened his eyes, Sam guiltily pushed his fork into his won mouth, hoping that his stare hadn't been noticed. Unfortunately, he had the feeling not much passed this man's notice, though he looked laid back and careless. Chewing, he swallowed and licked the pie off his lips, setting his fork down. "Why do I have the feeling this is called the Devil's delight or something like that?"

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but grin at Sam’s ‘wrestling’ comment, though more for the younger man’s reaction to his own words. As though he had just thought of something very ‘naughty’ and Dean couldn’t deny he was curious as to what that was. Sex most likely. Maybe chocolate cream smeared all over the young man’s body while Dean licked it away… that was definitely a very tempting image. A much finer desert than the one he was about to enjoy… maybe soon he could enjoy the desert he truly wanted. If Sam’s thoughts kept drifting in that direction perhaps sooner than Dean had hoped.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Dean replied, sitting back and admiring the beautiful man across from him. Watching the way Sam’s lips carefully formed every word and imagining how those lips would feel on him. Imagining how Sam’s voice would sound pitched lower, crying out in passion, his head thrown back, exposing the long line of his throat while Dean thrust into him.

Yes, Dean knew exactly what he was doing when the pie came, making a show of practically licking the shine off the fork between bites. The sounds of enjoyment he made practically pornographic, and he was pleased to note that he had Sam’s rapt attention.

Dean looked up at the young man through hooded eye lashes, grinning around his fork before he pulled it from his mouth, licking his lips. Laughing low at Sam’s words.

“Maybe I should suggest to the owner he change the name.” Dean replied, and once the pie had been polished off he pulled out his wallet almost regrettably. He had enjoyed the dinner with Sam, very much, and now it was over. Dean wondered if he could convince the younger man to join him for that movie… perhaps at his apartment rather than the theater.

“So, movie now? There’s a theater not far… or we could go back to my place. My TV has a great surround sound.” Dean suggested as casually as he could, afraid any sexual innuendo would send Sam scurrying. 

* * *

Sam was pretty sure that he hadn't had much left in his wallet the night he'd left it at Dante's. It would be worse to pull it out and not be able to pay half, better if he just took care of the bill next time. Next time? Yeah... he wanted there to be a next time, despite all his worries, all the pressure this put on him, all the ways it made him feel. The last few nights had been hell, thinking about this man and being in some sort of fevered state. This was better, seeing him in the flesh.

He wasn't ready for the night to end, he really wasn't. Lips pulling into a smile, he waited for the waitress to take Dean's credit card, before talking again.

"Movie, sure. You do have a really nice TV," he nodded, his stomach tightening at the thought of being completely alone with Dean. Yet, now that he thought about it, he really didn't want to be in an atmosphere where they couldn't talk at all. And yeah, maybe he wanted something between zero and a hundred, a little kissing wouldn't be so bad, would it? His mouth burned at just the thought, though course it was easy to be brave here, where it wasn't gonna happen.

"I'd like that, but ah..." he gave a one shouldered shrug and made a face. "I have to leave by midnight. Not a Cinderella thing," he raised his hand, cheeks flushing slightly at the thought that Dean might think something like that. "Buses... they stop running at 12:30." It had taken him forever to get home after Dante's by foot, with all the weaving and drunkeness.

* * *

Dean smiled broadly when Sam agreed to come home with him. He was actually a little bit surprised that the boy agreed so readily. But he did seem a lot more relaxed around him than he did when Sam first arrived at his apartment.

“Great.” He replied. Hoping his obvious excitement wouldn’t make Sam run for the hills. But Dean promised himself he would keep his hands to himself… mostly. A little kissing and petting if Sam proved to be in the mood would be nice. It would be even nicer if the boy gave him any indication that he wanted to take it further.

Though when Sam added ‘but’ Dean’s excitement diminished somewhat until the young man gave his reason. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle softly at that, grinning again at the young man again.

“You know, Cinderella, Prince Charming has his own coach he’d be happy to take you home in after the ball.” He teased the young man, giving him a playful wink. Hopefully Sam would agree. Not only would he possibly be able to convince the young man to stay the night if he wasn’t worrying about catching the bus home, but if he did take Sam home, either tonight or in the morning, he’d be able to see where the young man lived.

Maybe if Sam would even invite him into his place, where he might feel more comfortable to take things further. When the waitress returned with his credit card slip, Dean gave her a healthy tip and signed it, then stood up.

“Shall we?” 

* * *

  
_Cinderella_ , yeah, he'd asked for that one. Sam smiled back and answered. "I just didn't want to inconvenience Prince Charming by having him come out of his castle so late at night. But if you're offering, sure." And yeah, he'd just called Dean Prince Charming. Either he was getting comfortable in the guy's presence or he's already had too much to drink, but he was feeling okay. More than okay.

As they walked out and headed for the car, he bumped shoulders with Dean then looked at him. "Thanks. For dinner. It was really good." He meant the whole package, the food and the company, and knew that Dean probably got that. "And the song, I really liked that you sang." He said the latter right before he got into the car, before he could change his mind. It was an unforgettable moment, that was for sure. Something he'd never foreseen, but then a lot of things were happening with this guy that Sam would never have foreseen. Just a short time ago, Sam had seen that as a negative, but now... now maybe he was changing his mind.

Dean knew his way around, it looked like, since he was taking back streets and avoiding traffic. Sam stole glances at him, and knew he was wearing a smile that he couldn't seem to shake. It was like he knew he was on the cusp of something, something exciting, something that both thrilled and scared him. Usually, he was sensible if anything, and he'd listen to the voice in his head telling him to proceed with caution, but something about Dean was making that impossible.

He couldn't say what they talked about, but they were at the valet sooner than he thought possible. Forcing himself not to tense up, remembering how much fun he'd had at dinner, he walked into the elevator and watched Dean punch the button for his penthouse level. Very quickly, he was following Dean inside the large living room, and taking his jacket off.

* * *

Sam’s agreement to let him take the young man home had the demon grinning back in pleasure. No, it wouldn’t be an inconvenience. Because Dean was certain that he wouldn’t have to ‘leave his castle’ that late, at least, not tonight. As comfortable as the young man seemed right now Dean was certain he would have little trouble convincing Sam to stay the night with him.

Maybe after they had a few more drinks while they were watching the movie together Dean could pretend to be a little drunk, and surely the young man wouldn’t want him driving in such a condition. Sam would even think it was his idea to stay the night, and judging by the pheromones coming off of the young man it was bound to be a very good night. If Dean had to slip a little something into the young man’s drink to encourage that… well, Dean certainly wasn’t above that, though he’d prefer not to.

“You’re welcome.” Dean replied warmly to Sam’s thanks for dinner, and chuckled a little when the young man hastily thanked him for the song as well.

“I guess I’ll just have to serenade you some more then.” He said, giving the young man a playful wink before he started the car and drove them back to his apartment. A smile pulled at his lips whenever he felt Sam’s gaze turn towards him on the way. He definitely liked the fact that Sam couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of him for very long.

Soon they’d arrived at his building and they took the elevator up to his floor. Sam seemed a little more nervous now that they were alone again rather than at the crowded restaurant, but Dean hoped that the young man would relax soon enough. His eyes drifted appreciatively over the young man’s tall frame as he watched Sam remove his coat as Dean did the same, tossing his leather jacket casually over one of his chairs.

“Just throw that anywhere. Feel free to look through the DVD’s on the rack, and we can watch whatever you want. I’m gonna go make some popcorn and grab us some beers.” Dean said as he walked past the young man on his way to the kitchen. 

* * *

"Popcorn and beers... m'kay." Sam's gaze followed Dean until the guy disappeared into the kitchen. He was like some 'dream date,' did he even know it? At times, Sam thought the guy was so damned smooth, some of it had to be practiced. But at other times, like when he broke out in song, it had seemed completely spontaneous. _Special_ even, like it had been meant only for him. It was that feeling, of being special, that stuck with Sam. He rolled his eyes at himself. Just because he'd lost his parents and wasn't the center of anyone's world anymore, didn't mean that anyone who paid him attention thought that highly of him.

Still, he was still smiling about the song as he went through the numerous DVDs on the rack. He couldn't make up his mind between action and something romantic. What would Dean want?

Just like that, he flashed to the dance floor. Hands roaming all over his body. Lips brushing over his, kissing him. Words, suggestive and to the point. Sam's heart lurched, and he quickly reached for an action movie that would have a lot of explosions. He looked at the entertainment set's setup, and then popping the DVD in, had the surround sound going. Putting the movie on pause, he went to sit down.

There was a moment of indecision, but he took the sofa. He knew they'd probably kiss, and the thought sent butterflies to his stomach. A little kissing never hurt anyone, plus he'd already kissed Dean, right? Nervous, he wiped his palms over his jean glad thighs and took a deep breath just as a sound had him turning to see Dean return. His pulse racing, he gave a smile. "I picked 'Die Hard.' Hope that's okay."

* * *

Fresh popcorn was Dean's favorite. While the microwavable stuff was ok, nothing could really top the real thing. So Dean decided he'd make Sam some, it would take a little bit longer, but it would be worth it. It would also give the young man a chance to relax.

So Dean took out the pan and the oil and started heating it up. He took down the seeds and started melting the butter in the microwave so it would be ready. Once the oil was heated he poured the seeds into the pan and soon the popcorn was popping merrily.

He took down a large bowl from the cupboard and filled it up, drizzling the melted butter over the popcorn. Taking a few bites, Dean decided it was perfect, and grabbed a couple beers from the fridge on the way out.

Dean gave the young man a grin as he re-entered the living room and handed him one of the cold beers.

"Perfect." He replied, sitting down on the couch next to Sam. Close, but not too close, and holding out the bowl for him.

* * *

"Thanks," Sam said, taking the brew and searching Dean's face. He really didn't seem to mind the movie that Sam had picked out, which was a little bit of a relief. He knew it wouldn't be a big deal, but it felt like it to him. Hitting the start button on the remote, he set it down and settled back, glancing at the bowl Dean was offering.

"I'm really full still," he said, but once he looked into brilliant jade eyes looking at him expectantly, couldn't resist the offer. Reaching into the bowl, he took a handful of the popcorn and brought it to his mouth. It was just the right texture, and buttery like he liked it. "Better than at the movies," he said with a nod of approval. "So cooking's another one of your hidden talents. You put the rest of us guys to shame," he said.

Dragging his gaze away, he started to watch the movie. He had trouble concentrating, and that okay, because he'd already seen it a few time. Without looking over, he reached for more popcorn and his fingers brushed against Dean's. The electrical thrill that ran up his arm had him biting his lip. He stole a glance at the guy from under his lashes, then looked back at the t.v. screen. "Watching this around Christmas used to be a tradition in my family."

* * *

"There's always room for popcorn." Dean replied, grinning, when Sam reached over to take a handful from the bowl even though he'd said he was full. When the young man praised that it was better than the movies, and remarked how he was a good cook, Dean chuckled.

"Well, popcorn isn't that hard. But maybe I'll have to cook for you sometime." Dean offered, letting his eyes linger for a long time on Sam before finally forcing himself to turn towards the movie instead. Not wanting the young man to start to feel uncomfortable under his regard. Even though just sitting this close to Sam was practically wreaking havoc on his senses. The young man's scent… the desire to touch… almost overwhelming.

When Sam's fingers brushed his own as the young man reached for more popcorn Dean's breath hitched a little. Fuck. Just a touch, a spark, but even a single spark could ignite a forest fire.

He knew if he leaned over to kiss the boy now his lips would taste like butter, underneath that probably the faint taste of beer, and under that the taste of Sam himself. Dean wanted nothing more than to lean over, pull Sam to him, and search out that taste he knew to be so exquisite it bordered on the forbidden. Forbidden fruit… always the sweetest…

He wanted to run his hands all over the young man's body, press their bodies together, feel Sam's heat, map out every inch of his skin with his fingertips and then his tongue. Feel the young man's muscles clench in desire as Sam clung to him…

When Sam spoke again, Dean looked at him, and this time he knew he wasn't going to be able to look away. He studied Sam's profile, the curve of his cheek, the outline of his lips. Dean's tongue darted out to moisten his own lips as his hand lifted to brush a lock of hair behind Sam's ear. His fingertips trailing from Sam's ear down his neck to his fluttering pulse.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" Dean asked.

* * *

For a long, heart stopping moment, Sam thought he felt the weight of Dean's gaze. He held his breath, telling himself he was wrong, that he was imagining it, that it was wishful thinking... or paranoia, or something. He kept his eyes glued on the t.v., trying to concentrate even as his emotions went wild. _Don't act stupid. Don't act naive,_ he told himself over and over. Even when his mind was telling him he was way out of his league, that he should run, that he should hide, his body ... his heart was fighting those thoughts. Just exactly what the hell would be wrong with getting a little more of what the guy had offered him on the dance floor? Nothing. And maybe a little more kissing would get it out of his system. Sure it had been the most exciting thing that ever happened to him, but he'd been dead drunk. Maybe now, it wouldn't be as hot... it would be something he could get over.

 

Yeah right. Just like he'd thought maybe he'd been exaggerating how good looking the guy he'd danced with had been. Then Dean had opened the door and Sam knew, if anything, the reverse was true. Dean was even more handsome than he'd remembered. And then he'd turned on the charm, and Sam found it impossible to say no to anything.

 

He was mulling his thoughts over when he felt Dean's fingers in his hair, and turned wide eyed, pulse racing as he met intense jade eyes focused only on him. Speechless, Sam could hardly breathe and couldn't turn away. Heat practically roiled from Dean's eyes as he asked his question.

 

Sam's gut clenched. "Beautiful?" He shook his head slowly, and told the truth. "No. I'm just... regular," he said with a half shrug, but not feeling in the least casual. It had surprised him, the first time Dean searched him out for a dance. It still surprised him now, that a man that looked like Dean, that had everything Dean had, would look twice at him. If he'd thought the statement would ease the sudden tension, it only thickened it, making his heart beat that much the faster.

* * *

Dean merely smiled warmly at the young man’s denial.

It didn’t surprise him that Sam thought he was only ‘regular’. It was obvious that the boy had little, if any, confidence when it came to his appearance, but for the life of him he couldn’t understand why. It was almost as if he was in denial of the fact he was attractive, and he wondered if Sam went out of his way to appear less so. Well, if he did, he failed miserably at that. There wasn’t a man or woman alive who could possibly say that Sam was hard on the eyes, and the demon honestly couldn’t believe that no one had ever passed the young man such a compliment before.

But since Sam definitely didn’t protest his touch, Dean let his fingers trail to the back of the young man’s neck, cupping it gently as he leaned in closer.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” He whispered when he was close enough for Sam to feel the warmth of his breath on his lips. Then he did what he’d been wanting to do all damned night. Dean kissed Sam. 

* * *

As Dean started to lean in, Sam sucked his breath in and held it. It was like time stretched, like he'd frozen in place as Dean inched closer. Sam's gaze fell to Dean's lips, so soft and full, so damned sensuous. And he knew how they felt, how they could tease and taunt and make Sam want to give everything up, how effortless Dean made it seem.

His eyes snapped back up to Dean's as Dean spoke, lips parting instinctively as Dean's mouth descended over his. At the first touch of their lips, his mouth tingled. Then he felt Dean pull him closer, and didn't resist. This time, Dean's tongue moved past his lips ad inside his mouth. Heart slamming against his chest, Sam hesitantly slid his tongue along Dean's, giving a soft murmur as he was flooded with intense sensations.

Placing his hands on Dean's thighs, he leaned in, tentatively kissing Dean back. He was nervous as hell, so his fingers bit into the other man's thighs until he realized what he was doing and eased up. It felt good, exciting. His entire body was humming... vibrating, his senses had sharpened and he was so damned aware of the man whose house he was in, who had taken him to dinner, who seemed to have some sort of power or hold over him. "Mmm." He didn't even realize he'd moaned until he heard the sound and his eyes fluttered open. He started to pull back a little, then pressed his mouth harder against Dean's and opened for him.

* * *

Dean sighed in pleasure when he felt Sam’s lips part beneath his own. Taking it as an invitation, whether it was intentional or not, to let his tongue push past and into the wet heat of the young man’s mouth beyond.

So good… Just as sweet as he remembered, just as intoxicating, and more addicting than any drug. It was so hard to restrain himself, to keep from merely ravishing the young man in his arms, after being nearly tortured by his unsatisfied desires for this boy. But he kept his control, barely, kept the kiss slow and easy… for now. There would be time for that… soon… if Dean got his way.

As his tongue carefully explored and tangled lightly with Sam’s, he drew the young man even closer to him. He set aside the bowl of popcorn so that there was nothing between them as he slipped his now free hand around the young man’s waist. He could hear Sam’s heart beating, so fast and hard, he could practically taste his arousal on his lips… for him.

When he felt Sam’s fingers dig into his thigh, Dean moaned softly in spite of himself, trapping the younger man’s answering moan in his own mouth. If Sam wasn’t careful he was going to break the fragile control the demon had over his desires…

Then Sam started to pull back and Dean was a fraction of a second away from tightening his fingers in the young man’s hair, preventing him… but then Sam all but melted in his arms, kissing him harder, pressing closer of his own will, and Dean was lost.

Dean moaned louder in approval, letting Sam take some of the lead, letting the young man explore his mouth as he had Sam’s, as Dean’s hands began to worm their way beneath the layers of the young man’s clothes. Dean’s hand moved up underneath Sam’s shirt to caress along the smooth flesh of his back, exploring every rippling muscle with his fingertips, then around to Sam’s stomach. Sliding along the taunt abs and well chiseled chest until his fingers found one flat nipple and began to tease it, feeling it harden beneath his touch. 

* * *

As Sam pushed his tongue past Dean's lips and along his tongue, his heart rammed against his chest, the sound reverberating in his ears. His mouth trembled slightly against Dean's, but he pushed on, exploring the depths of Dean's mouth. With each slide of his tongue, he tasted liquor and Dean, with each heavy breath, he drew in the man's unique scent. It was intoxication. It was exciting. It had Sam in knots in ways he'd never be able to explain.

Just as he got more brave, tangling his tongue with Dean's, he felt Dean's hand move under his shirt. His stomach muscles tensed under those palms exploring his flesh. Warmth spread in waves from every point that Dean touched him, had Sam pressing closer, gripping Dean's thighs harder once again. Somehow, he found himself deepening the kiss, becoming more adventurous and demanding a little more. This man did that to him, made him want... no need to go beyond his own boundaries.

Then Dean's hand found his nipple and that simple touch sent a jolt of heat straight to Sam's cock. A moan of pure need broke from Sam. His brain stopped, but his body didn't. He pushed his palms up Dean's firm thighs, over his stomach and chest, then put his arms around his shoulder, practically launching himself into the man's arms. Tortured by searing heat, he pressed against Dean, moving restlessly, kissing him, seeking something... needing something... burning up. "Oh God... Dean," he murmured against the man's lips.

* * *

When Sam all but launched himself into his arms, seeking more of his touch, more Dean was certainly willing to give, the demon couldn’t help but moan in desire. Sucking on the boy’s tongue in his mouth and feeling the shudder of pleasure pass through him, as though Dean had touched him with an electrical current. He drew the young man into his lap, letting Sam straddle his thighs. He felt the hard press of the boy’s growing arousal against is stomach and moaned again.

His fingers continued to play gently with the sensitive peaks on the young man’s chest, the boy was so damned responsive, every light pinch or tug on his nipple practically making Sam squirm. His other hand continued to roam everywhere along the young man’s body, growing bolder by the second.

Caressing through the young man’s hair, down his neck, shoulders, and back all the way to his buttocks in long sweeps. At first only letting his fingertips brush over the swell of the young man’s ass, giving the strong muscles a light squeeze, and then a firmer one. Pulling Sam closer to him, letting the boy rut against him if he wished, wanting to feel the young man come completely undone in his arms.

Almost reluctantly Dean broke their kiss so he could begin tasting other parts of the young man’s body. His lips moving down along the length of Sam’s jaw to his neck, his tongue swiping out to lick along the young man’s throbbing pulse. Moaning feeling it pounding so hard and fast beneath his mouth. He began licking, then sucking hard on the tender skin, determinedly leaving his mark on the pale flesh.

Sam was his now, whether or not the young man knew it. He would always be his…

* * *

The instant Dean pulled him over his lap, Sam plastered himself against Dean. He knew this was totally out of character for himself, that he should take things slow and easy, that the few kisses he'd been prepared for had long been collected, and this was much more than a kissing session. But he couldn't help himself, he really couldn't. His body was a thousand points of need, and he didn't know how to deal with it, this, on his own. So he pressed and rubbed almost wantonly against Dean's hard body, his breathing steadily growing more labored.

Dean's hands roaming over him had Sam squirming even more, needing more. He was so desperate, he wasn't even hiding the fact he was rubbing his now achingly hard dick up against Dean's stomach, his back arching as Dean's hands went over his ass. No one had touched him like this before. No one but Dean, that night...

When Dean broke the kiss, a sound of protest left Sam's mouth. About to complain, to insist on more kissing, he felt a new kind of heat invading his body when Dean's mouth moved over his jaw, and oh God... his throat. He whimpered, grinding his hips harder against Dean. He knew he should be doing something, touching Dean, but he could barely sit still... barely think.

"Oh God, Dean..." his fingers bit into the other man's shoulders as Dean sucked the sensitive flesh of his throat into his mouth, then licked it better. "Dreamed... dreamed like this, ached like this for days..." he admitted, unable to stop the stem of words. "Not usually like this. Don't know what you do to me, fuck..."

* * *

At Sam’s words Dean moaned and sucked harder on the young man’s throat, nipping lightly with his teeth, and then soothing the sting with his tongue. Both of his hands settled on Sam’s ass and squeezed, pulling the boy against him, silently encouraging.

When Dean finally released the patch of skin he’d been working on Sam’s neck Dean was quite pleased by the bright red mark he’d left. Sam would be wearing it for days, a reminder to the boy who he belonged to. Though Dean hoped he would have the chance to create many more before the first faded.

“Want you… more than I’ve wanted anyone… Sam…” Dean whispered against the young man’s lips between teasing them with soft nips and swipes of his tongue. He finally captured Sam’s lips with his own once more, licking his way into the young man’s mouth to kiss him deeply. Not giving the boy the chance to think much less refuse him.

Though no longer satisfied feeling Sam’s flesh through layers of cloth, Dean let his hands work their way underneath the waistband of the boy’s jeans. Moaning as he felt the enticing flesh of the young man’s ass for the first time, squeezing the firm muscles as he bucked beneath the boy. Rubbing his own aching dick against Sam. 

* * *

When their mouths parted from each other, Sam saw the way Dean looked down at his throat. Instinctively, he knew the man was getting a thrill out of probably having left a hickey on him. He hadn't thought something so teenage would give the guy a thrill like that, but when he saw the heat in Dean's eyes, he no longer questioned. It wasn't just the mark, it was more than that... it was <i>his</i> mark. Like he was branding Sam as his.

Sam wondered whether that was normal, or whether he should be worried at the sheer possessiveness in the look Dean had flashed him with. But trying to parse it out, to think about it, that was impossible when Dean whispered he never wanted anyone this way, and what should sound like a line sounded more like a prayer... a promise. He was being naive... stupid... this was obviously a seduction, but the instant Dean's tongue found its way back inside his mouth, Sam could no longer think.

Moving desperately against Dean, Sam wasn't aware until after it happened, that Dean had somehow worked his hand under his jeans and shorts. He felt warm palms and blunt nails against this ass cheeks, and moaned as he was dragged closer and Dean thrust up against him, grinding their jeans clad cocks together. Waves of heat crashed over him, made him feel fevered and caused needy sounds to break from his throat as he tried to get closer to Dean, tried to more accurately drag his cock over Dean's, whimpering when he slid down the other man's body and felt the guy's dick grinding against his ass.

Wanting, needing to keep his mind off what he really wanted to do, Sam broke the kiss and moved his mouth over Dean's face. His eyes, the scattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones. Then he was kissing Dean's throat, sucking on his flesh the way Dean had sucked on his, and nothing was enough. Sam thought he was going crazy, like he had in his dreams. On the verge of a sob, he pleaded. "Dean... please... please I... Dean."

* * *

The sounds Sam made when Dean grabbed his ass would have tempted even a saint to sin, and Dean was certainly no saint. The feeling of their trapped cocks rubbing against each other was nearly torturous, but Dean was willing to prolong that torture if only to hear more of those desperate needy sounds spilling from the young man’s lips.

So Dean thrust up again and again, loving the feeling of the beautiful boy meeting him halfway. Rubbing his trapped cock against his own in a way that must have been more painful than satisfying, grinding his ass down on his cock, Sam’s body knowing what it craved even if the young man didn’t. But Dean was certain it would not be long before Sam was begging him to enter him, to take his virginity, to fuck him so hard over and over again that the boy would feel him for a week after their coupling.

The sweet kisses Sam rained down on his face made Dean smile and when he felt the boy’s lips work their way down to his throat he let his head fall back to give the young man all the access he wanted. Squeezing Sam’s ass harder and moaning low in his throat.

But when he heard Sam’s desperate please Dean decided he’d waited long enough, and gripping the young man tightly to him the demon shifted their positions. Using his strength to easily turn them and press Sam down onto the couch that was more than big enough for the both of them. He covered Sam’s body with his own, pushing himself between the young man’s spread legs and kissed him again hard.

Almost reluctantly he removed his hands from the young man’s ass, but now the demon desired to see and feel more of Sam’s beautiful body. And so he pushed the young man’s shirts up until they were bunched beneath his armpits. Then broke their kiss so that his lips could fasten to one of the perky nipples he’d played with before, sucking and toying with the sensitive nub with his mouth while his hands went to the waistband of Sam’s jeans. Making quick work of the young man’s belt he had them open and tugging was tugging Sam’s jeans and underwear to the middle of his thighs in seconds.

Only then did Dean lift his head, staring down at the beautiful young man’s body spread out beneath him like a feast. The demon’s eyes drinking in every inch of him from his lustful expression, to his kiss swollen lips, to his hard nipples and rippling abs down to his thick and ready cock.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you everything you desire.” Dean whispered, before curling his hand around Sam’s hard shaft and began stroking him slowly. 

* * *

Sam gave a small 'oomph,' when he found himself flipped over before he even knew what was happening. And then there he was, laying on the couch, Dean's weight pressing down over him, the bulge in his pants rubbing over his own painfully hard dick trapped in his jeans. His groan of pleasure was swallowed by Dean's mouth, as the other man kissed him hard, leaving him no room to think... to worry.

 

As his shirt was pushed up, warm palms ran up his bare chest and had Sam's stomach clenching. His muscles shuddered under Dean's touch, his breath catching when Dean reached and tortured his nipple. A strong jolt of heat went right to his groan, leaving Sam panting for breath. Who knew, his body was that sensitive... that someone could find all the right buttons to press?

 

"Dean?" He licked his lips as he watched Dean undo his belt without any fumbling. The protest died on his lips when his pants and briefs were down to his thighs in the blink of an eye, and he was exposed to Dean. As he felt Dean's gaze travel over every inch of him, Sam's fingers curled into fists at his sides, pressing down into the cushions of the sofa, both fear and excitement skittering through him. He caught his lower lip between straight white teeth, eyes seeking Dean's.

 

The instant Dean's fist closed around his cock, Sam threw his head slightly back and moaned. Everything he desired. Everything he desired. Right now, this was what he desired. "Ungh.. ungh... Dean," he reached out and gripped the guy's shoulder with one hand, and dared to run his fingers through his short spiky hair with the other. "I..." He couldn't very well ask Dean what he was supposed to do. Instead, he gave a small smile punctuated by the soft groan that tore from the back of his throat. His fingers bit into Dean's shoulder, his eyes pleaded for more... always more... more from this man who turned him inside out with just a single look.

* * *

Dean smiled down at the younger man as Sam reached for him. An almost purring sound forming in the back of his throat when Sam’s gentle fingers combed through his hair. That simple touch combined with the need written in every line of the young man’s body making Dean’s blood burn.

His lips ached to kiss the young man again, but right now Dean wanted to watch. As he slid his hand up and down the hard length of the young man’s cock, his eyes drank in the sight of the beautiful boy laid out before him. He watched as Sam’s head fell back in pleasure, exposing the long tempting line of his throat as Dean stroked him almost lazily. He studied Sam’s eyes, pupils dilated with pleasure and locked only on him. He memorized the way Sam’s lips parted and how his breath hitched when Dean ran his thumb around the crown of his dick, how the young man arched beneath him silently begging for more…

Dean squeezed the young man’s cock gently, twisting his wrist just so, and drew a bead of precome from the tip of Sam’s beautiful cock. Not one to let such fine nectar go to waste, Dean quickly bent down to lick the creamy drop away with a groan of pleasure. His tongue continuing to flick and tease Sam’s slit for more as his hand sped up its strokes.

Those few drops did not satisfy him for long however. The demon looked up at the young man through dark eyelashes as he started to swirl his tongue around and around Sam’s head like a lollipop before his lips finally surrounded it. His hand dropping from Sam’s dick to fondle his balls as Dean went down on the other man. 

* * *

Oh God, Sam thought he was going to die from the sensations coursing through his body. He lifted his hips as Dean squeezed his cock, then saw the way Dean was focused on his tip. A flush of embarrassment covered his cheeks when he noticed the liquid at his tip, but then Dean dipped his head down and his wet warm tongue swiped across its surface. The heat from that touch had Sam moaning. Then Dean was licking and teasing him, making him harder, making him need when he had thought there was no way he could want, need more.  


  
When their eyes met, Sam knew Dean had to see how needy he was, how much h wanted more... needed it, but couldn't ask, couldn't force himself to. Something sparked between them and before Sam knew it, his shaft was being licked, then sucked into Dean's mouth. As he watched his cock disappear, another low groan broke from him. His hand slid down to the back of Dean's head, and he dared to pull him down closer, to show him he wanted more.

As Dean's head moved up and down, Sam felt his cock get slick and wet with Dean's saliva. The way he was having his balls squeezed, then his cock sucked felt like a fluid motion and had him panting for air. "Oh God... Dean," he licked his lips, his head moving from side to side as pleasure wracked his body. This was close, so close to the feelings in his dream, so close to those sensations that had him jerking off for hours trying to find satisfaction. This time, this time it was for real. And this time, he was close.

He started to thrash, to lose focus of the beautiful man whose lips were curled around him. Suddenly, Sam's body bowed back as he felt his balls tighten. He whimpered, trying to formulate a warning but was unable to. All he knew was that he needed to come, and would.

* * *

Dean felt the young man's balls draw close to his body, and knew his release was imminent. He felt the tension written in every line of Sam's body. His fingers having to tighten on the young man's hip to steady him when the boy started to thrash uncontrollably. Those sweet needy whimpers falling from Sam's lips telling him exactly what the beautiful boy wanted, what he needed, how much he wanted Dean to give it to him…

He took the beautiful cock as deep as he could into his mouth, into his throat, tightening his lips around the base of the thick shaft as he swallowed around Sam. Squeezing Sam's balls, practically milking the young man of his pleasure, and when he felt the first warm rush of the boy's seed hit the back of his throat, Dean couldn't contain his groan of pleasure. Sucking hard, taking everything from the young man that Sam gave and then some, savoring the sweet taste of pleasure and innocence spilling freely into his mouth. There was no more potent an aphrodisiac. Dean's trapped dick throbbed painfully, so hard he thought he just might come along with the young man.

No. He wouldn't. Dean knew where he wanted to come, and it was certainly not in his jeans.

Dean sucked on the young man's pulsing cock until Sam started to grow soft inside his mouth, and then he continued teasing the boy's spent dick until it began to harden again. As oversensitive as Sam was it didn't take long. Letting his fingers drift down from the young man's balls to slip between the cheeks of Sam's ass, teasing over the tight puckered opening, circling and lightly probing with the tip of his finger.

When he finally released the boy from his mouth Dean pulled back to look down at the young man. Practically groaning as his eyes drank in Sam's cock, hard and red resting against his abdomen, muscles glistening with sweat. The boy panting, breathless, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright. Looking both fucked out and so desperate for more, he might just die if Dean stopped. He would not be so innocent anymore when Dean was through with him tonight, that much was for certain.

Dean draped himself over the young man once more as his fingers continued to tantalize his hole, capturing Sam's lips in a fiery kiss, letting the boy taste himself in Dean's mouth. He rubbed his aching dick alongside Sam's, even knowing the rough denim against the boy's over sensitive flesh would be almost painful.

"I want to be inside you." The demon whispered against the young man's lips when he finally allowed Sam to take a breath, rubbing his dick a little harder against the other man. "Say yes… and I'll give you more pleasure then you've ever dreamed of."

* * *

Sam had never come so hard or for so long. _Only he had_... in those dreams, those dreams of Dean that had him jerking off until he was sore and wondering if he was going mad. Now, seeing reality gave his dreams a run for their money, he knew it had to be Dean, he was just that good and Sam wasn't going nuts.

Even when he thought he was done, that Dean couldn't wring anything else from him, that his cock would be too sensitive to be touched, he was proven wrong. Dead wrong. A pained moan broke from him as Dean somehow managed to get his cock hard again. His head jerked back, eyes widening both in surprise and because of the sensations skittering through his system when Dean touched his hole.

Then Dean let him slip out from the warmth of his mouth, and Sam was taking a deep breath, trying to come up with the courage to offer him the same pleasure, when he found Dean on top of him and realized his hand hadn't strayed away from his hole. Then they were kissing hard again, and Sam felt Dean's rock hard erection pressing and rubbing against him, Dean's jeans rough and slightly painful against his skin, but his urgency doing things to Sam's insides. He remembered clearly what it felt like to be desperately hard, to need. He knew that was where Dean was right now. Knew he had to be dying to have a fist around his cock, or a mouth, knew he'd do either for Dean.

Then Dean lifted his head and was talking to him in that husky voice that sent Sam's pulse into overdrive again, asking ... asking to be inside him. Sam squirmed, guilt rushing through him as he once again felt how hard Dean was against him. Surely he wasn't asking too much.

Indecision warred inside him. The heat in Dean's eyes, the press of his body, the promise in his words had Sam wanting to say yes, for a hundred reasons. But he was cautious by nature, and had been very nervous about this, had vowed to himself all that would happen between them was more kissing and touching. Already, they were far beyond that.

"I could..." he closed his eyes for a moment, raising his hips slightly, needing the closeness despite the slight discomfort. "... do what you did for me." When he opened his eyes, the heat in Dean's was almost too much to bear. The question was still there, as if Sam hadn't answered, hadn't spoken. Sam's heart clenched. He licked his lips. "Alright," he nodded, "alright Dean. But ... I haven't..." he knew his face flushed.

* * *

Dean could see the hesitation in the young man’s eyes. If Sam denied him, the demon wasn’t sure he wouldn’t just take what he wanted anyway. Nothing else would satisfy him. Not even the boy’s offer to suck him off. Oh, he would most definitely feel those sweet lips wrapped around his cock soon, but that was not what Dean wanted now. That was not what he needed. Dean rubbed his fingers a little more insistently against the young man’s tight puckered hole, the heat he could feel beyond teasing and inflaming him.

When Sam finally agreed to let him have his most precious gift, Dean smiled down at the young man and kissed him with an almost aching tenderness. Surely more tenderness than the demon had shown anyone… in a very long time.

“Don’t worry… I’ll go slow…” He whispered gently against the boy’s lips between kisses, before he finally reluctantly levered himself off of the young man’s body. Reaching for Sam’s hand and pulling the other man off the couch as he stood. Wrapping his arms around the young man’s body and kissing him again when it seemed Sam’s knees were still a little weak from his previous orgasm.

He continued to kiss the young man as he walked Sam back towards his bedroom. Keeping the boy distracted as he shut off the movie and television with a thought, sure that Sam wouldn’t even notice but wanting zero distractions now. Once they reached the bed, Dean let the young man up for breath and finally released him and took a step back to view his handiwork.

Debauched was the only word that came to mind. The boy’s face flushed, his lips swollen from kisses, his skin glowing from the light sheen of sweat that covered it, his jeans hanging loose around his hips.

“Take off your clothes and lay down.” Dean told the young man, pulling his own shirt off over his head and undoing his own jeans as he waited for Sam obey him. 

* * *

God, when Dean kissed him, it was like Sam had died and gone to heaven. It was a slow kiss, steaming hot, and seeming to focus only on him... making Sam feel like he mattered, like this was a big moment in Dean's life as well as his own, which was just crazy. He knew that, knew anyone who went to Dante's on a regular basis did this all the time. But he couldn't help the messages his heart gave him, maybe his soul gave him.

He was so lost in Dean's kisses, he was barely aware of standing up. Dean must have pulled him up and now his arms were around hims so tight there was barely any space between them. All Sam could think of as he was walked backwards one step at a time was that Dean's body was going to leave an imprint on his, how good the other man felt against him, how perfectly their mouths moved against each other. Even when he needed air, he didn't have the strength to complain, to tell Dean. Instead he clung to the other man, whimpering softly, trusting in his words, letting him have his way.

When he was released, a whimper of protest broke from Sam, even as he took a much needed breath. He saw they were in the bedroom, furnished in red and black, and so damned decadent. There were also mirrors, tinted dark so you barely noticed them until you looked straight at them. Licking his lips, he looked at Dean, his gut clenching at the look in that man's eyes, the heat. He felt Dean's gaze rove over every inch of him, felt a flush at the realization his jeans were open and part way down.

The command took Sam's breath away. He stared dumbly as Dean took his shirt off, then was pulled out of the state when he saw Dean tug on his belt and start to undo his jeans. There wasn't an ounce of shyness in the man, and his eyes, as hot as burning coal, were on him, expecting obedience. "Yeah... okay," he whispered, stripping slowly and unable to look away from Dean.

When his clothes were pooled on the floor next to the bed, and he was completely exposed to Dean, Sam swallowed hard. He reminded himself that Dean had already seen him, had gotten him off. There was no point in hiding.

He sat down on the bed, scooting over and laying down in the middle, over the silk black sheets, his head on a brick red pillow. Fighting against the instinct to cover up, because he knew it wasn't what Dean had in mind, Sam instead concentrated on Dean. Hadn't he dreamed about this over and over? Well now he could see what Dean looked like, and even if it made him horny, there was release in sight.

He didn't hide the fact he was looking, admiring Dean's chiseled chest. His gaze slipped quickly down over his now revealed dick and made him gasp. Dean was big, and hard... hard for him. Inside his mind, he repeated Dean had said he'd go slow, he had to trust him. He wanted this too, wanted to know what it would feel to be one with the guy. Feeling Dean's stare, he met his gaze. "You wanted this when we were dancing," he said, recalling the words that had made him run that night. "Now I see why you probably always get your way." A smile curved his lips, and he nervously put his hand out. Somehow it was easier to be close together, feeling and touching, than to have distance between them and practically get eye-fucked.

* * *

It took a moment for the young man to obey, and Dean couldn’t help but smile at the knowledge that it was because Sam seemed too intent on watching _him_ as he disrobed. Since the boy’s eyes never left him even as he started to strip down as Dean had commanded. Shyness was written in every movement Sam made yet still Dean did not avert his eyes. Watching unashamedly, admiring every inch of skin as it became revealed to him as Sam pulled off his own shirt and pushed his underwear and jeans completely down.

Seeing the young man standing there, naked as the day he was born, hard cock begging for his attention even as a shy blush creeped over Sam’s pale skin, had Dean practically groaning in desire. A part of him wanted to simply devour the young man, body and soul, but the demon kept a tight rein on his darker needs. Dean could be a considerate and giving lover when he chose to be, and this time he chose to be. He would keep his promise to Sam. He would go slowly and he would be gentle taking the boy’s virginity, if only because he wanted the young man begging for more for a long time to come…

A small smirk curved the demon’s lips when Sam got his first good look at his cock, hearing the boy’s gasp.

When Sam mentioned the night they’d met, Dean couldn’t help but laugh warmly at the young man’s observation. Yes, while he had been quite angry at the way Sam had run from him that night, he was past that now. Dean had no desire to punish Sam. He had already taken his anger out on others and now he only wished to sate his desires with the young man. Patience was hard for the demon, but now it didn’t matter because Sam was here and giving himself to him just the way he wanted. He always got what he wanted… one way or another. Right now all he wanted was Sam.

When Sam held out his hand to him, Dean approached the bed, but he did not join the young man there just yet. Making a slight detour to the night stand where he opened the top drawer and extracted a bottle of lube. He briefly considered taking out a condom as well. It wasn’t like _he_ needed them. He could not conceive children and he could not contract diseases the way humans could. But Sam would probably expect it… or maybe not. If Sam asked he use one, he would, but right now Dean wanted to feel Sam’s flesh around him with no barriers between them.

So Dean shut the drawer again and took Sam’s hand as he eased himself down on the bed next to the young man. Leaning in he kissed Sam slowly as he trailed his fingers along the boy’s flesh wherever he wished. Threading through Sam’s hair and skimming down his neck and chest, caressing along his stomach and hips, moving to the inside of the boy’s thighs. Easing the young man’s legs apart to give Dean access to his most intimate places.

Dean broke their kiss and propped himself up on his elbow to gaze down at the young man laid out like a feast before him. His hand moving up Sam’s inner thigh to lightly stroke his cock and fondle his balls, knowing just how sensitive he still was from his earlier release. He did not linger there long however, reaching for the tube of lube and squirting a generous amount onto his fingers, returning them to Sam’s hole. He felt the young man jump slightly at the coldness and leaned in to kiss Sam softly in apology even as he smeared the slick oily substance liberally around the boy’s entrance. Once the lube had sufficiently warmed, Dean allowed one of his fingers to push past the tight ring of muscles into Sam’s body.

* * *

Sam watched intently as Dean opened a drawer and brought out a bottle. At first he wondered what Dean was doing but it clicked... it was lube... for him. Suddenly, he wanted to look away, maybe even to run.. to apologize. Before he could make his mind up, Dean was on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. Then they were mouth to mouth, and Dean was touching him.

Dean's hand left blazing hot trails along Sam's skin, making his nipples tighten, and his abs clench in its wake. Hardly able to think, Sam managed to run his hand up Dean's back, stroking him softly as their kiss intensified, and trying not to panic when Dean parted his legs. Not like he hadn't touched him there before, not like he hadn't seen. He moaned in protest when Dean withdrew his tongue from his mouth pulled away, and tried to tug him close again, but froze at the way Dean was looking him up and down... looking directly at his cock.

He sucked his breath in when Dean touched his cock and then his balls, sending pleasure and pain through him. It reminded him of how bad it had been, when those dreams had kicked his ass and had him jerking off over and over until he was raw. He wasn't that raw yet, but the reminder scared him a little. Was he going to turn into some sort of sex addict? Cause the instant Dean's hand moved on, he missed it, and lifted his hips slightly, head turning to the side as a soft moan left him.

The cold liquid came as a slight shock, that pulled him out of the moment, until Dean soothed him with a kiss. That man could kiss, could make him forget everything, that much Sam was sure of. And then he felt Dean's finger at his hole. Tensing, he gripped Dean's shoulder, fingers biting into it, even as they continued to kiss. His heart was banging against his heart, a sound broke out of him when Dean finally invaded his body in a way it had never been invaded. His muscled tensed around Dean's finger, he tried... tried to enjoy it, but he wasn't at all sure anymore. "Dean?" He mumbled against Deans lips, shaking his head slightly from side to side.

* * *

"Shhh, baby… it's ok… just relax…" Dean soothed gently, lightly licking the young man's lips, and kissing him gently as he let his finger slide deep into Sam's virgin passage. Once he was there, he didn't move however, just letting the boy feel his touch and get used to the new sensation.

"I know. It feels strange at first. But it will get better, I promise." The demon continued, tenderly brushing his lips one last time over Sam's before fluttering soft gentle kisses all over the younger man's face.

Fuck, but the boy was so tight and hot inside. Just imagining feeling that tight heat gripping his cock as he plunged past the resisting muscles, imagining how Sam would scream and clutch at him even tighter than he was, severely tested the demon's resolve. But he had made a promise. He had told Sam he would go slow, that he would be gentle, and Dean always kept his side of a deal.

Dean pulled back slightly so that Sam could see his face, at least the young man would have if his eyes weren't clenched shut so tightly. The demon leaned in to brush two careful kisses over Sam's eyelids before pulling back again.

"Look at me, Sammy. Just look at me, please." Dean said softly, waiting patiently until the young man complied before he continued. "I won't do anything more until you say it's ok."

* * *

If Dean hadn't been so reassuring, if he he hadn't whispered to him and explained. If he hadn't kissed him like he was doing, all over, making it hard to concentrate on the sensation of the other man's finger inside him, Sam might have changed his mind. But it didn't happen. He believed Dean, trusted in what he said. Then the longer they kissed, the more sure he became that the pain he'd been semi-expecting would never come.

Still, Sam held his breath more often than not. He was afraid to breathe. Afraid to open his eyes. Afraid Dean would stop distracting him, and he'd be back to square one. Then Dean was pulling away, and Sam shook his head no. _NO... don't go... don't..._ He was afraid he'd do something to embarrass himself.

About to plead for Dean to come back to him, to kiss him, to keep his mind busy, he heard Dean's own plea. The promise that followed had him obeying, opening his eyes warily. He licked his lips, and gave a nod. "I'm okay, just... I like it when you're closer, when we're kissing," he whispered. He felt Dean's finger move slightly and sucked his breath in, fighting the instinct to close his eyes. He kept them locked to Dean's, trust shining out of them. He even managed to reach out and stroke Dean's arm, squeezing his hand around the man's powerful muscles then sliding his hand up to his shoulder, the pad of his thumb playing lightly against Dean's earlobe.

* * *

There was a certain wariness in the young man’s eyes when Sam finally looked at him, but they were also filled with so much trust it nearly took Dean’s breath away. Samuel… his brother… had often looked at Dean like that. Like the younger boy would believe him anything. Even if Dean told him to climb a tree and jump because he could fly, Samuel would do it. Samuel trusted him that much…

Dean smiled gently down at the young man and leaned in close once more, giving him exactly what he wanted, kissing Sam softly.

“Your wish is my command.” Dean said between soft gentle swipes of his tongue and tender nips to the young man’s already swollen lips. Once he felt the boy begin to relax again, the young man’s muscles no longer clenching quite so tightly around the finger inside of him, Dean’s kisses began to move from gentle and soothing to deep and heated again. Distracting the boy as he began to slide his finger slowly in and out of Sam’s body.

It was slow going. Sam was so tight that even opening him slowly with one finger was a bit of an effort. At first he only let his finger slide in and out, but after a time he began to rotate and circle his finger a little, opening up the young man slowly.

But Dean could tell when Sam slowly became more used to the sensation, no longer tensing up every single time he pushed his finger deep inside him. Dean thought the boy was almost ready for another finger, but first he decided to be a little evil and give Sam a small taste of the pleasure he was about to receive.

So Dean curled his finger inside of him, searching out and rubbing teasingly over Sam’s prostate. 

* * *

Sam's lips quirked up. "You're a romantic, who knew?" And who knew he wouldn't feel silly hearing those words from a man? Special, that's what they made him feel. And when Dean's mouth was back, pressing against his, he immediately parted his lips and pushed his tongue out to meet Dean's. Their tongues slid alongside each other, tangled and played, then Dean sucked Sam's tongue into his mouth. Sam explored the heat of Dean's mouth, his hand sliding behind Dean's neck, cupping it as they kissed until he was out of breath.

Each time the broke the kiss for a few moment, he made sure to open his eyes. It's what Dean wanted, and he too wanted to give Dean whatever he wished. The next time their mouths met, Dean was kissing him harder, demanding more. _Yes, anything you want, yes, yes_. He moved his face from side to side, his mouth clinging to Dean's, his body arching toward him. As soft moans and pants left him, he realized he was moving his hips rhythmically, that his cock was hard and heavy and he was unconsciously seeking some pressure. He'd forgotten all about the slight pain, now there was only the burn of a slowly growing need.

Dean's finger moved deeper inside him and suddenly Sam's hips jerked up, his body on fire, a surprised cry breaking from him. Eyes wide, he tipped his head back, searching Dean's face. "Wha..." And then it happened again, Dean touched him just right and Sam was groaning and lifting his hips, this time to push against the finger inside him. His cock was swollen and pulsing against his stomach, leaking steadily. "Dean. Is that... is it how it will feel when you're in me?" he asked between panted breaths. "Want it... want you to," he said, eyes locking with Dean's. Heat and pleasure coiled tight in his belly, winding him up. "Please..." he practically shouted as Dean's finger touched that spot again. Licking his lips, he repeated a little more steadily. "Please Dean."

* * *

Dean’s lips curled into a pleased smile as he gazed down at the beautiful young man now practically fucking himself onto his finger. Sam’s reaction to him rubbing his prostate even better than the demon had hoped. Then the young man was begging to be fucked and Dean couldn’t help but groan in desire.

He knew he should take the time to open Sam up more, he was still very tight, but Dean’s patience was being sorely tested already. With Sam begging to be fucked, now, without any more preparation, how could he refuse? Sam had asked for it after all… even if the boy didn’t know any better…

Dean wanted to feel that tightness, so tight it would almost be as painful for him as it would be for Sam. Besides, the young man was so close, and Dean didn’t want him to come again until his dick was inside of him. If Sam came before that, Dean wasn’t sure if he could make him come a third time. He wanted the young man to equate that pleasure with Dean fucking his brains out, so Sam would beg him to fuck him again, and again.

“It will feel even better.” Dean whispered in answer to Sam’s question, gazing down at the beautiful man as he carefully slid a second finger into his body. Hardly letting Sam adjust to the extra stretching before he was thrusting two fingers in and out, teasing the young man’s prostate with every deep thrust, scissoring his fingers to stretch him out a little more.

“I want you so much… it will be a little uncomfortable first, that’s because you are a virgin. It can’t be helped. But if you stay relaxed, that will go away soon, and it will feel better than you can possibly imagine.” The demon continued, sealing his promise with a kiss, not letting Sam answer as he withdrew his fingers from the young man’s body. He reached for the lube again and only once he had left Sam breathless and needy did he pull back and sit up.

Smiling down at the young man again, Dean positioned himself between Sam’s legs and popped open the tube of lube. He gathered a generous amount and spread it over his cock, slicking it thoroughly before snapping it shut and tossing it behind him on the bed somewhere. Then he grasped Sam’s knees, pushing them up and spreading them wide, pressing the tip of his cock against the young man’s slick hole.

As Dean leaned in to kiss Sam again deeply, he started to push his way past the restricting ring of muscles into the young man’s body. Groaning deeply into the boy’s mouth as Sam’s slick tight heat began to surround his cock.

* * *

Just as Dean promised him it would be 'even better' when he was inside him, a sharp burning pain had Sam crying out and tensing. He gripped Dean's shoulder, fingers digging into him in a plea to wait. Instead, Dean touched him _there_ again, this time with both fingers stretching him open. In a few strokes of Dean's fingers, the burn was eclipsed again by pleasure.

Or maybe Sam was hypnotized by Dean, by his low husky voice. He listened to him say he wanted him badly, felt his gut clench at the heat inside the man's eyes. He wanted to be where his fingers were, wanted it... wanted it like Sam wanted him to keep touching him that special way. But could he take anything thicker inside? It felt like he was stretched to the max, and he'd seen Dean's cock... it was fucking big.

Before he asked, Dean whispered instructions... told him to relax, that it would be okay. Sam didn't question any further, not after Dean promised him that once the pain went away, it would be better than what he was doing with his fingers. It was an all new sensation, and Sam liked it, liked how it was out of his control, how his body just reacted to being touched there, from the inside.

Oh God, Dean was kissing him again. Sam couldn't get enough of that, of the man's taste, of the things he could do with his tongue. Groaning, he crushed his mouth to Dean's, chasing his tongue, begging... pleading for more. He was totally breathless, panting for air when Dean broke the kiss. Sam wanted to pull him back, but Dean sat on his heels and got more lube.

Sam's gaze was laser focused on Dean's cock as Dean spread the lube. Watching Dean's now wet and slippery dick thicken as Dean stroked himself, Sam swallowed hard. He tried to imagine what it would feel like to have Dean's cock inside him, to squeeze around him. He didn't know exactly, but he knew the thought of Dean pumping into him, needing him... that had him hard and heavy, right there.

He tried to return Dean's smile but lost it a little when his legs were pushed back and parted, opening him so clearly to Dean's view. There wasn't time to feel embarrassed or vulnerable because Dean moved in, and pressed his cock where his finger had been. He could feel him align his slippery cock and gave a needy whimpered when it brushed over the sensitive puckered skin surrounding his hole. So many sensations to cope with, how was he going to?

The answer was easy, because Dean was going to kiss him... Dean's kisses made him forget everything else. Almost. The head of Dean's cock stretched him wider than his fingers had, made him burn and tear. His low grunt of pain was echoed by Dean's groan against his mouth. The raw desire in the sound Dean made affected Sam like nothing else could. He wanted to hear it again, wanted Dean to make it again and again. Pulling on Dean, he pushed against his cock, taking a little more of him inside. God... it hurt... it hurt but he wanted this man inside him, wanted it so bad. Sliding his tongue along Dean's, he forced himself to forget about the pain, to lose himself in the kiss, and to think about how good it would feel... just like Dean said, after the pain was gone.

* * *

Fuck, the boy was so tight, but the almost painful clenching around his cock as Dean breached the virgin hole was almost better than the pleasure that followed. Knowing he was the first to invade this beautiful boy. If Dean had any say in the matter, he would be the only one to ever taste this forbidden fruit.

Still, as much as the demon would have loved to bury himself in the beautiful boy’s body in one swift, violent, thrust, Dean eased himself inside slowly. Determined to keep his promise to go slowly and to be gentle.

Sam was still obviously in pain from his entry despite his efforts, and yet, the young man still clung to him, kissing him desperately, even pushing against him to help slide his cock deeper into his body. That alone, that absolute trust, Sam obviously needing this as much as he did, had Dean’s heart beating faster. Something about as close to affection as the demon could feel settling there.

He… did not want to hurt Sam. Which was something of a surprise to the demon. He could get off on pain just as easily as pleasure, sometimes more so, but he did not want to hurt this boy. He was actually… sorry… he was causing him pain now. Even though Dean knew it wouldn’t last long and soon the pleasure would override Sam’s memory of the pain he was causing him now. Still, Dean wanted to do everything he could to minimize the discomfort the boy was in.

So he continued to kiss the boy deeply, whispering words of encouragement between kisses, as he slid slowly inch by inch into his tight body.

“That’s it. Just relax. You feel so good. So hot and tight. Oh, fuck, Sam…”

Going slow enough there would be no risk of tearing, but fast enough to get the ‘hard’ part over for Sam as soon as possible. To further distract the young man from the stretching burn of adjusting to the size of him, Dean slid a hand between their bodies to grasp Sam’s cock. Sam’s flesh had gone a little soft due to pain but as Dean began stroking him it quickly began to harden again.

Finally he was balls deep inside the young man and Dean groaned again in ecstasy as he pressed his hips flush up against Sam’s ass. Resting there for a moment, letting Sam get used to his size.

“I’m all the way inside you. Just relax… you’re so amazing, so beautiful, so hot…” Dean whispered, pulling back to look down at the gorgeous flushed man beneath him. Wanting to see his face as Dean carefully withdrew his cock a couple inches, and angled his first shallow thrust to give Sam all the positive reinforcement the boy needed. 

* * *

Sam felt like a hot rod was being driven inside him, splitting him open. A whimper escaped him. Then Dean was telling him to relax, telling him it felt good. He was trying real hard to relax, and the only way he could do it was by seeking out Dean's lips again. He was convinced that as long as Dean was kissing him, he could take anything. Maybe Dean thought he was being needy, but he couldn't care... all he knew was that the absence of Dean's lips made him frantic. The solution was simple, he'd just draw Dean back to him again and again, each time they broke for air.

The press of Dean's warm palm against his belly felt good, reassuring, but when Dean's fist closed around his cock, he moaned against Dean's mouth. He was getting so hard, aching so bad it was hard to keep his hips still. " _Fuck_." Dean didn't seem to mind or notice and soon, Sam was so lost in his single-minded quest to kiss and be kissed, and in the pleasure vibrating through him with each stroke of Dean's hand, he forgot about the pain.

He wasn't even aware that it was over, that Dean was completely inside him, until Dean pulled away and told him. He took a few deep breaths and analyzed how he felt. There was a slight burn, and he still felt like he was stretched very wide, but it wasn't that sharp pain from earlier. There was a strange sense of fullness and when he clenched slightly around Dean's cock, he could feel every inch of him. God... he hadn't thought it would be possible to take all of him.

He licked his lips and met Dean's gaze. He doubted he was beautiful at the moment but he liked hearing it. Giving Dean a smile, he stroked his back and brought his hand up to rest on the nape of his neck. "Yeah... you're in me." A strange thrill went through him as he spoke the words like they were some sort of vow, which was just nuts. "I'm... I'm okay," he whispered, moving his hips slightly, testing how it felt. He liked having Dean's fist around his dick, he wanted to thrust into it, and this fullness inside him seemed to be contributing to the pressure building inside him.

About to grind his hips against Dean's, he felt Dean pull out part way. His hands moved to Dean's shoulders, fingers digging into him slightly as he braced for for pain. There was pain, but on its heels came a spasm of such intense pleasure that Sam's head rocked back into the pillow, his chin rising up toward the ceiling as a deep moan worked its way out of his throat. It sounded filthy, like something out of a porn flick, and had him cringing and blushing.

"I..." He pressed his lips together, cutting off the apology on the tip of his tongue and trying to clamp down on any more sounds. But he wanted it, wanted to feel Dean move inside him just like that again. He pushed against Dean's hips, raising his hips slightly and sucking his breath as the slightest shift of the man's hard cock inside him had his mind reeling, thinking of how it would feel when they  
worked up to a rhythm. He pushed against Dean's hips again and quickly figured out he wanted more leverage and raising his legs, locked his ankles around Dean's waist.

When he met Dean's eyes again, he thought he could feel the heat in them scorching his skin. "Fuck me," he said simply.

* * *

Dean smiled down at the beautiful young man when he felt Sam’s legs wrap around him, allowing him to shift his angle just enough to get even deeper inside of the young man. So hot. So tight. So good. So perfect. He’d imagined fucking the boy ever since he’d first laid eyes on him in Dante’s but even his wildest fantasies seemed pale by comparison now. The way Sam clung to him in every possible way. The sounds of pleasure Dean pulled from him with hardly any effort that made the demon’s blood burn hotter. So much better than he could have ever imagined…

Then Sam’s soft demand pulled a deep groan of desire from Dean before he could stop it. Oh yes. That was definitely the plan. Releasing the younger man’s throbbing hot flesh, Dean braced his arms on either side of the boy’s body. Never looking away from those beautiful trusting eyes as he gave Sam exactly what he asked for.

Dean started slow, careful shallow thrusts that teased the younger man’s sweet spot deep inside of him almost constantly. Never looking away from Sam’s face, etched in pleasure, savoring every expression, every sound, he drew from the younger man.

Soon it wasn’t enough however. Dean had teased himself for long enough. He had held back longer than he would have for any other mortal, but now he needed to sate his own needs. This time he slid his cock out until only the head remained, and when he filled the younger man again quickly he groaned deeply in pleasure. Yes, that’s what he needed. Deeper, longer thrusts, as he worked up to a more natural rhythm. Though he made sure to angle his hips to keep hitting the younger man’s sweet spot, again and again. Sam’s hard cock rubbing against his stomach, leaking without even being touched as Dean fucked him. 

* * *

When Dean dropped down onto his arms, Sam raised his chin, thinking Dean was gonna kiss him. Instead, he started to thrust lightly, in nice, easy, non-threatening motions. Very quickly, Sam got used to it, relaxing completely as Dean's cock moved inside him. Each time Dean fucked him 'just right,' Sam's exhales broke off, or his breaths caught in his throat. His labored breaths sounded strange to his ears, and he tried to control them, but it was impossible. The way Dean was looking at him, watching him as he gasped and clamored for breath had Sam realizing it was okay, okay to let got. The next time a jolt of intense pleasure had him writhing, he stuttered out a low moan. Damn, he sounded needy. He was needy.

He started to push back, to used his legs around Dean, to meet his thrusts. The heat in Dean's eyes grew almost unbearably hotter. Sam's gaze dropped to Dean's parted lips, and now he could see that Dean was fighting for air too. He didn't know why, but that knowledge kicked up his need a full notch. He clenched his inner muscles around Dean's length, joining in the moan that left Dean. Reaching up, he ran his hand up Dean's arm and shoulder, cupping his neck, his thumb moving back and forth, sliding over Dean's mouth.

He thought he could do this forever, but something changed. Dean's expression went from soft and maybe a little amused, to hard and serious. Licking his lips, Sam was about to ask what was wrong, why Dean was pulling out, when Dean thrust into him much harder than he had before. Sam saw white flashes and gripped Dean's shoulder, forcing himself to keep his eyes open. Nothing was wrong, Dean just needed him this way... harder. The look on his face was just concentration and the sounds that came from him... God, they did something to Sam.

He rocked up against Dean, taking Dean's every hard thrust without complaint. The pain ebbed away again, and he was feeling pleasure dart through him with each sharp jerk of Dean's hips. "Oh God..." he groaned breathlessly, biting his lower lip and clenching and unclenching around Dean's hard flesh driving deep inside him.

He didn't know just when he realized that he was almost painfully hard. Maybe it was when he imagined Dean's mouth wrapped around him again, but then he'd miss the naked hunger in the man's eyes. Reaching between them, he closed his fist around his cock and started to squeeze and stroke to the same rhythm he was getting fucked. The building tension and heat had Sam grinding his hips against Dean's and moaning. "Dean? I'm..." He didn't want to come before Dean was ready but he didn't want to disappoint him either. "Close."

* * *

Sam’s expression was one of surprise and pain with Dean’s first hard thrust into his virgin body. And yet, even though the young man’s nails dug into his shoulder sharp enough to leave crescent marks in his skin, the younger man didn’t protest. Giving the demon what he wanted without complaint, and soon Dean could see the pain fading from the young man’s eyes, replaced by only pleasure once again.

“Fuck, Sammy…” Dean panted, his breaths growing shallower, heavier as he felt Sam’s muscles clenching around him rhythmically. The way the beautiful young man lifted up to meet every one of his thrusts, his body silently begging for the next. As though the boy knew instinctively what to do to give him the most pleasure.

Yes, he knew Sam was close even before the young man’s gasped words. He could feel it in the trembling of the boy’s body. He could hear it in the increasingly desperate sounds Dean was pulling from the young man.

It was as though Sam was asking his permission to come… and fuck if that didn’t make the demon even hotter. They would have to play that game. Soon. But for now, Dean decided to take mercy on the young man. Sam had pleased him greatly, it was time to reward him.

“Go ahead, Baby. I want to see you come. I want to feel you.” Dean said, thrusting into the young man just a little harder, hitting the boy’s prostate dead on with each thrust. 

* * *

He needed to come so bad, so bad it hurt. When Dean whispered in his low husky voice, telling him he wanted it too, wanted to watch him come, Sam's vision blurred. _Faster.Harder.More. Faster.Harder.More._ As if reading him just right, Dean was giving him just what he needed. His cock pistoned in and out of Sam, each hard thrust sending waves of heat crashing over him. Sam stroked his cock with building desperation, thrashing against Dean, Drawing him close with his legs and clenching his muscles around him.

He was wound up so tight that sounds kept spilling from his lips. Whimpers and cries, pleas for release. "Oh God... please Dean," he begged, remembering too well the tortures of the nights before when he'd dreamed this over and over, his need never fully satisfied, his cock raw from jacking off, his body restless and wanting only on thing, one man. Spinning out of control, he tried to focus on Dean, watching him through heavy half lidded eyes. He was aware of the muscles of Dean's arms bunching and straining as he pistoned into him. "Fuck... Dean..."

Dean shifted angles and Sam almost arched off the mattress. Jolts of pleasure lanced through him faster and faster, closer together, until he thought he couldn't bear it anymore. "Ah... Dean..." His balls drew up tight against his body... he stayed on the edge for a few more thrusts, and then he was groaning out his release and shooting ropes of hot sticky cum over his stomach. "Dean..." he whispered the man's name like a prayer as the intense pressure eased.

Breathing hard, heat pounding against his chest, he opened his eyes. Dean was still watching him, still pounding into him. Still needed him with that burning hunger in his jade eyes. Pushing himself up, he gave Dean a messy open mouthed kiss, thrusting his tongue into Dean's hot mouth. Unable to hold the position, he moved his mouth over Dean's cheek, trying to get close to his ear. "Come for me. Inside me. Now." Somehow _Please_ turned into an order, and then he was dropping back to the mattress and squeezing his muscles around Dean's cock pulsing inside him. A slight smile curved his lips as he drew Dean deeper and deeper, arms shoulders, fingers digging into his muscles.

* * *

Dean had lived for a long time. He had seen things that most mortals couldn’t even comprehend. He had seen indescribable beauty and unimaginable horrors alike during his long years. But right here, right now, Dean could have sworn he’d never seen anything as beautiful as Sam coming undone beneath him with pleasure.

When Sam came, his hot seed spilling between their bodies and coating both their stomachs, the boy’s inner muscles tightened around his cock like a vice. Almost more pain than pleasure, and Dean couldn’t help but groan loudly in ecstasy. Echoing the sounds Sam made as he gazed down at the young man hungrily. Drinking in the sight of his features contorted in pleasure, his body trembling in desire, almost looking as though he was in pain, but Dean knew otherwise.

All through Sam’s orgasm, Dean continued to thrust inside of him, drawing out the boy’s pleasure for as long as possible and taking his own at the same time. When the intense pleasure began to fade from the young man’s eyes, his spasms easing into more soothing aftershocks, the look of complete adoration that Sam gave him took Dean’s breath away.

He moaned loudly into the kiss that Sam gave him, fucking even harder into the beautiful boy. Sam would feel him for days, hell, maybe even weeks after this. That knowledge only made the pleasure more intense. Made him want to keep fucking this beautiful boy forever, until Sam was begging him to stop and never to stop in the same breath…

But then Sam was begging… ordering… him to come inside of him and with an almost animalistic growl Dean found himself complying. Sam clinging to him even tighter despite the fact Dean was fucking him far rougher than he should for the young man’s first time. Clinging to him as Dean buried himself balls deep into the boy’s beautiful body and spilled his seed deep into his tight virgin passage. His whole body jerking with the intensity of his release it was almost as though he was having a seizure, before he finally collapsed spent and heavy on top of the young man. 

* * *

He hadn't thought Dean could fuck him any harder, but he did. Harder, faster, deeper, driving his cock into Sam, making him see bright lights with each rough thrust. Sam clung to him, willing to accept a little pain in return for the absolute need he could read in Dean's expression, and the loss of control. He might be wrong, but he didn't think this was a man who lost control easily, and this was a gift. Biting his lower lip, Sam groaned as Dean buried himself inside him one last time, then shuddered over him as he came inside him, filling him.

Sam was trying to isolate the warm, wet sensation inside him when Dean collapsed over him. He welcomed the weight pressing down on him, making it a little harder for him to breath. He unlocked his ankles from around Dean's waist and let them drop to the bed. As their heavy breaths mingled, Sam ran his hands over Dean's back, and his sides, exploring his smooth, overheated and slightly damp skin. He was slightly light headed, but very content.

Waiting another moment, he kissed Dean's throat, drawing in the scent of soap and tasting salt. He explored his way up to Dean's jaw, biting it lightly, then bringing his hand to Dean's nape, he brought their mouths together. He didn't know why he needed Dean's kisses so much, but he wasn't gonna analyze. Dean was here, within reach, and he was gonna get the kisses he still craved. He licked his way past smooth, soft lips, and slid his tongue alongside Dean's, moaning when Dean's curled around his own. Their tongues tangled slowly, like they had all the time in the world, until Sam ran out of breath and turned to the side. His hot breaths fanned over Dean's ear. He swallowed, and smiled. "This what you call dinner and a movie? I'm afraid to find out what you'd mean if you'd said sex."

* * *

Dean closed his eyes, an almost purr of contentment vibrating in his chest at the feeling of Sam’s fingers dancing over the flesh of his back in slow abstract patterns. He could feel Sam’s rapid breaths against his skin, but they were slowing, as was his own. Sam’s touch, along with the soft kisses the younger man began pressing into his throat soothing him. Making the demon feel more… satisfied, sated, content… than he could ever remember feeling in all of his life.

A small smile curved the demon’s lips when he felt Sam’s teeth graze his jaw and he turned his head to meet the slow deep kiss the young man gifted him with. Their tongues tangling slowly together, no longer hurried but with no less passion.

He kissed the young man until they were both panting again, and when their lips finally parted he couldn’t help but laugh softly at the teasing words whispered into his ear.

“Maybe someday I’ll show you.” Dean replied as he carefully let his cock slip from the boy’s well used passage. Mindful of how sore the young man would be and not wanting to cause him any extra undue pain. Not that the boy wouldn’t be walking funny in the morning that much was for certain. But Dean had plenty of ways to sooth that ache, and he would be happy to show Sam.

Smiling, Dean wrapped his arms around the boy as he settled on his side facing the young man. His fingers gently gliding over sweat glistened skin as he pulled back to gaze into those beautiful eyes he knew so well even though they’d just met. Sam. Samuel. His… now and forever…

“Stay with me tonight.” Dean whispered, both a plea and a command. 

* * *

Sam couldn't put a name to the flicker of emotion in Dean's eyes. All he knew was that it made him feel warm, and safe. His eyelids were growing heavy, and Dean's caresses were only relaxing him more. His limbs felt heavy, like he'd been exercising for hours.

Dean's question took him by surprise. He didn't think Dean was asking because it would be inconvenient to drive him now, no, the invitation seemed genuine. Sam found he didn't want to go anywhere, he wanted to stay in Dean's arms, just like this. "Okay," he nodded with a smile. "I don't think I can move right now, anyway." Unable to keep his eyes open, he rolled his head closer to Dean and muttered something that sounded suspiciously close to "night."

* * *

It was early when Sam woke, his limbs tangled with Dean's. Looking at his watch in the dark, he saw it wasn't yet six a.m. and Dean was motionless. Slowly, he eased off the bed, wincing the moment he sat straight. Fuck... he hurt. Wiping his hand over his face, he remembered the night before. His first time having sex... followed by more sex. Dean had rolled over him and started them up hours after Sam had fallen asleep, and then they'd taken a shower together. Now he was paying for it with the aches and pains.

He got up and walked to the window, pulling the dark curtains only slightly open. It was still quite dark outside, but the little light that did come into the room allowed him to see his clothes and Dean's all over the floor. The bed sheets were in shambles, and the room... as he got a better look at it, was made for sex. The pictures on the walls, the colors, even the hidden mirror on the ceiling. Most might miss the mechanism on the ceiling that would cause the mirror to appear, but figuring out how things worked, and making them himself was one of Sam's greatest interests.

He turned his head and looked at Dean, his face laying on the black satin pillow. He was good looking as hell, face, lose lips that felt incredible on his own, and there wasn't a thing wrong with his body, Sam thought, his gaze skimmed down to where the sheets barely covered Dean's perfect ass. He looked like... like _sin_. Just like the room.

Questions crowded Sam's mind. What was he doing here? This man was clearly out of his league... in every way. Ten days ago, Sam would have laughed at the idea of a one night stand, and now... With a male, at that. He'd never thought he was gay, not ever. Sure he didn't have a lot of experience with women but he liked them just fine. This... this was confusing. This man's interest in him, and his own willingness to cross so many lines with him... that was confusing. He needed to think, he really need that. And he couldn't think around Dean, no way.

Making up his mind, he carefully walked around the room picking up his stuff. He slipped out of the room, into the living room and found his shirt there. Taking his clothes, he went to the guest bathroom. In the mirror there, he saw marks on his body, where Dean has sucked his flesh hard near his throat. And there were a few bruises, on his hips. His eyes seemed too bright, and his lips were a little puffy. Well that, he had only himself to blame for - he'd been the one to demand all that kissing. Heat flooded his cheeks as he remembered how demanding he'd been about that. Even now, thinking about it, his lips burned and his breath caught..

Fuck, he was deep in something he didn't know how to deal with. He had to go slower, just had to, for his own sanity. After getting dressed, he bent down and opened the cabinet to get under the sink. The water was dripping from the faucet and since he knew how to fix it, he took care of it. Of course that had been a better idea before he remembered his pains, and the particularly sharp burning ache where Dean had pushed inside him.

He walked out silently, stopped at the bedroom door for a minute, wondering if he could just kiss Dean goodbye. Pushing the thought away, he quickly walked out of the house before he changed his mind, locking the door behind him. Every step he took reminded him of how deep Dean had been inside him, how eager they'd both been for it. Whatever he decided to do about this, one thing was sure, he wouldn't forget last night, or the man who'd given it to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Demons didn't really need sleep, considering they weren't really alive to begin with. Just like they didn't really need food, or water, or even to breathe like mortals did. Nevertheless just like eating and drinking fine foods sometimes Dean indulged in brief naps. Frankly, immortality could be boring and anything to break up the 'routine' from time to time was welcome.  


  
Dean was always kind of amazed that even though demons did not need sleep they could dream just fine. Often when Dean dreamed he dreamed of his years in hell, recalling nightmarish images that would surely drive any mortal insane. Those dreams… were not pleasant. Some might find that a little strange, but hell was hell even for a demon. There was a reason why so many of his kind tried to crawl out of the pit, after all. Very few were strong enough. Even fewer actually enjoyed their time in hells depths. Dean was not one of them, and he certainly had no intentions of ever returning to the pit.

Given that, one might wonder why he bothered to sleep at all. It was because sometimes, once in a blue moon, he would dream of his time before he'd been dragged to hell. It was those dreams he longed for. Those dreams he cherished and clung to. As painful as the memories were, some of them worse than his memories of hell, he did not want them to fade. He did not want to forget…

It surely had to be the presence of the young mortal at his side, because Dean could not remember the last time he had slept so peacefully or deeply. He also couldn't remember the last time his dreams were so vivid, the memories so clear, as though he was actually there…

*

(1609)

Dean trudged slowly along the muddy path leading up to the house. The heavy rain stung his eyes like little needles, and his clothes had long since become soaked through. His muscles ached from both weariness and cold. It had been raining for almost two days straight now, and though it was spring there was still an unmistakable chill in the air. Winter unwilling to give up its grip on the land without a fight it seemed.

The lighted windows, thoughts of a warm fire, and his brother waiting for him made Dean smile. Work on the farm was hard anyway, but when it rained like this it seemed ten times worse. Samuel hadn't wanted him to work of course, worried that he would become ill due to the rain, but the work needed to be done. They were barely getting by as it was, and Dean could not afford to leave the crops and animals untended even for a day.

Samuel wanted to help, of course, but they both knew the boy couldn't. His brother couldn't even help him with most of the work on the farm even on the nicest days. He was simply too frail. Working in weather like this would surely kill him.

His brother helped him in other ways. Some of his 'inventions' had made certain tasks on the farm much easier for Dean and while the work was still hard, Dean didn't mind it. He would do anything for Samuel. His brother was his entire world. All he had left. His only real regret was that the work took him away from his brother's side for most of the day.

When Dean reached the front door of their home, he kicked off his mud caked boots, leaving them outside. Knowing that Samuel would scold him for tracking it in the house if he didn't, and while sometimes he did so anyway just to annoy the younger boy Dean didn't really feel like cleaning up tonight.

Dean opened the door and sighed pleasantly, glad to finally be home.

"Samuel?" Dean called out to his brother as he made his way over to the fire, pulling off his soaked shirt clinging to his skin on the way and hung it by the fire to dry.

* * *

Hearing his brother's voice, Sam immediately pushed himself up off the kitchen table he'd been leaning on to rest. He'd managed to get the fire going and had a stew in the pot, wanting it to be ready when Dean got back. "I'm here," he answered, reaching for his crutches. Not wanting Dean to think this was one of his bad days, he decided to use only one of them and slowly made his way to the living room. The minute that his brother thought he was having trouble walking, he was sure Dean would insist on carrying him upstairs and since he'd been up and working since dawn, the last thing Sam wanted to do was add to his burden, if he could help it.

He saw that Dean had already taken his shirt off, and quickly looked up when Dean turned. "You look like a drowned rat, without the beady eyes," he smiled, and headed for the couch. Leaning down, he picked up a a thick blanket off the back of the worn couch,"hurry, get out of those wet clothes, or you'll catch a chill. I brought trousers and a shirt down." Because his hands were busy, he pointed with his chin to where he'd hung them on hooks he'd put on the wall.

The trek up the stairs to get the extra clothes Dean would need had worn him out. But he was afraid that he'd be confined to bed tomorrow, so he wanted to be able to do as much as he could today to help his brother today. "Are you cold?" He put his hand out and felt Dean's cheek, then nodded. "The fire will warm you. There's stew on the fire, and Mrs. Johnson brought a bit of bacon. I'm sure you can smell it." He could hear Dean's stomach growling and bit back a criticism. Dean hadn't taken any food with him, and he hadn't come to lunch. He worked much too hard, and Sam knew whose fault that was. "I'll bring it out here, it's warmer."

* * *

Dean frowned a little when he heard his brother’s voice from the kitchen. Damn it. He’d told the boy to stay in bed most of the day, what was he doing in the kitchen?

He turned to face the younger boy when he heard the telltale sound of his brother’s crutch against the wooden floor. Sam was only using one today, which was good, but he’d ordered his brother to stay in bed as much as possible today to keep warm. He didn’t mind that Sam had started the fire, but he shouldn’t be up walking around. Dean was worried that with the rain and the chilly air his brother might fall ill again, even though Sam usually had an easier time in the spring and summer.

“I thought I told you to stay in bed, Samuel.” Dean replied, pretty much ignoring the ‘drowned rat’ description his brother gave him as his fingers worked at the button and laces of his trousers. Probably because he knew it was true. The soaked material clung wetly to his legs and it was a little bit of an effort to get them off, but he managed, then hung them to dry next to his shirt.

When Samuel said he’d brought down dry clothes for him, Dean’s frown only deepened.

“You know I don’t like you walking up and down those stairs when I’m not here too.” Dean repeated for probably the hundredth time. But did Samuel ever listen to him? No. His brother did what he pleased no matter what Dean said and sometimes Dean just wanted to throttle the boy because of it. Instead Dean merely sighed and shook his head.

Yes, he was a little cold, but he was warming up quick thanks to the fire as Sam said. He’d wait until he dried off a little before putting on the dry clothes though. No sense in getting them wet too. He could definitely smell the stew and the bacon and he was starving. He hadn’t had anything to eat since early this morning before he started work. When Sam offered to bring him some food from the kitchen however, Dean caught his arm and shook his head again.

“I’ll get it. You sit and cover up. Have you eaten yet?” 

* * *

He had expected the scolding and accepted it, head hanging down. Couldn't Dean understand that he didn't want to be a complete burden on him? It was best not to argue though, it would blow over much faster and Dean would forget.

When his brother had said his piece, Sam started to turn but Dean caught his arm. Looking up, he saw it would be best not to argue. Not that he was afraid of Dean, but his brother had a long day and looked exhausted. "Okay. I'll have a little," he nodded. Noticing the goosebumps on Dean's flesh, he once again held up the blanket, only this time he put it around Dean's shoulders with just a little difficulty. His palm slipped across his brother's muscled chest as he pulled the two ends of the blanket together and he quickly dropped his hand.

"You want to eat here, then?" Licking his lips, he turned around and slowly made his way to the couch. Most nights they ate at the kitchen table, but the fire in here was bigger. At Dean's nod, he sat down and grabbed the blanket on the arm of the chair and pulled it over himself. Just as Dean walked away, Sam sneezed. Immediately his eyes met his brother's and he shook his head. "Don't worry so much, Dean. I'm fine, just a sneeze. Go on, get something in you before _you_ get sick."

As soon as Dean was out of the room, Sam's small smile dropped away. He asked for the thousandth time why it was he was like this? Mostly confined to the house and always on the verge of being sick? Why couldn't he be more help to his brother? Their neighbor, Maureen, who came over once in a while to see Dean had made things really clear to Sam a short while ago. She'd told him how Dean refused to go to local dances, to participate in town hall meetings, or to accept the occasional work with influential and wealthy people who could help him make his way, all because of his invalid brother. Basically she'd meant it would have been better off if he'd died at birth or when he'd fallen through the ice and really weakened. Sometimes he wondered if she was right, but then he'd manage to make Dean laugh, or they'd share a silent joke, and then he knew better. Yeah, it would be a lot easier on Dean if he weren't around or if he were healthy, but Dean needed him too.

His brother brought out two bowls of steaming steaming stew and a big hunk of bread. Seeing that Dean was already chewing on a large piece of the bread, Sam laughed. "This isn't a stable, Dean."

Minutes later, they were both facing the fire and eating. Sam would ask him about his day and then listen to Dean's familiar voice run down everything he did and saw. It had been this way forever, Dean allowing Sam to experience the outside world through himself by patiently detailing all of the events of the day.

Then he'd ask what Sam had been up to. Sam would either pretend he'd done less than he had, just to avoid antagonizing Dean, or he'd exaggerate and say he'd done things he wasn't capable of, such as building a new wing to the farmhouse.

Soaking a piece of bread in the stew, then popping it into his mouth, Sam reached for his slate. Putting it on his lap, he showed the chalk drawing to Dean. "Bet you can't guess what that is." Seeing his brother roll his eyes, he shook his head. "You can make fun of it now, but come spring, you're not going to believe how much time it will save you and your back. It's a seeder... or a seed bag. You'll be able to push the cart and the seeds will fall into the rows of soil you've plowed, and you won't have to bend. I'm also thinking about maybe finding a way to harness it to a horse, and you'll have an easier time of it," he said proudly. "When I decide what I need, I'll make you a list." He flashed his brother a grin, knowing how Dean hated going to town and asking for strange pieces, depending on what Sam needed. "Don't worry, your reputation is safe. They'll think its just for your mad brother."

* * *

Dean nodded when Sam said he would eat with him, and gave the younger boy a slight smile when his brother wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. Even if he didn’t really need it, he was warming up fast thanks to the warmth of the fire, but better safe than sorry. Dean couldn’t afford to become ill himself for a multitude of reasons. The most obvious being if he got sick there would be no one to take care of the farm, but the bigger worry he had was giving any sickness he might contract to his brother. His brother was so frail, even the slightest cold that might keep Dean in bed for a day could keep his brother in bed for weeks. Dean couldn’t risk that.

He gave the younger boy a nod that they could eat in here rather than the kitchen, and watched as his brother settled himself on the couch before he turned to fetch their food. Samuel’s sneeze made him freeze and turn back to the younger boy quickly, worry in his eyes.

Worry that Samuel simply waved off telling him it was just a sneeze… Dean frowned a little but nodded. Samuel knew better than to try to hide an illness from him. Dean had made it quite clear, many times, if Samuel even thought he was starting to get sick to tell him. So that Dean could buy medicines and arrange for someone to take care of the younger boy, or take care of Samuel himself, if need be. If they took care of an illness early, it was much less strain on Samuel. If they caught it too late… Dean didn’t even want to think of it.

So Dean merely continued his way to the kitchen, inhaling the delicious smells of the stew and fresh bread. His stomach growling loudly as he ladled stew into two bowls and cut slices of bread for them both. Unable to help himself, dipping his bread into his own bowl and taking a large bite from it before carrying the steaming bowls out to his brother. Merely grinning as he chewed at Sam’s teasing.

He passed Sam one of the bowls and took a seat on the couch next to his brother with a sigh, glad to be off his feet finally. He immediately dug into the stew with enthusiasm, it was delicious. Though Dean wouldn’t have cared much right now if it were otherwise, Samuel was a very good cook.

As they ate they spoke about their day, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little as Samuel went into his flights of fancy. When his brother reached for his slate however, Dean raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he looked at the picture Samuel showed him. No, he couldn’t figure out what it was, but that was nothing new. Truly, Dean had no idea how his brother thought up the things he did. But he knew from experience never to argue with the younger boy.

In fact, the irrigation system that Samuel had designed and Dean had built had improved their crops so much last year they’d gotten more than triple the harvest they usually did. Dean was able to pay off a vast amount of their dept with the profits, and if the crop was even half as good this year he might be able to pay off all of it.

Though when their father had died there had been some money it had been depleted quickly, especially after Samuel’s accident. Dean hadn’t been able to work on the farm when Sam was so ill and nearly died, he had spent all his time looking after his brother, and medicines were expensive. Dean had worked hard to try to pay off that dept after Sam had gotten better, but there was only so much work he could do alone on the farm.

Mr. Myers had often offered to buy their land to ‘help’ him, but Dean had always refused. He was not going to sell their land his father had worked so hard on, but sometimes Dean had worried that he might have no other choice. If it came down to keeping their land or caring for his brother… Thankfully it looked like it wouldn’t come to that, and it was thanks to Samuel and his ‘inventions’.

Dean laughed softly and ruffled the younger boy’s hair. Yes, there were plenty who thought that Samuel was ‘odd’ to say the least. But Dean didn’t care what others said. Samuel was his life, he would do anything for this boy he loved so much.

“Alright then, make me a list and I will go buy what you need the next time I go into town.” 

* * *

Sam nodded, a wide grin on his face. "One of these days I'll come up with something we can make a lot of, and sell. Then you can get help around this place and rest a bit." Dreams of that day filled Sam's head as he finished his meal. Course it was no surprise that his brother pulled his bowl, and scraped everything in it with a piece of bread. "There's more in the kitchen," he pointed out, shaking his head when Dean answered he knew, and would be getting more soon.

That evening passed the same as most nights. Dean put his legs up and rested as Sam read him stories, when the local school marm received new ones that she could loan, or from the ancient family bible. Other times, he made up fantastical tales, sometimes throwing in magical elements that his brother kept telling him would get him burned at the stake if certain people got wind of them. Then they'd laugh, and Dean would ask for another story until one or both of them got sleepy.

As Dean took care of securing all of the doors, Sam started up the stairs. His brother picked him up in his strong arms, despite Sam's protests. By the time Dean lowered him onto his bed, Sam was flushed and looked away. "Goodnight Dean," he muttered, closing his eyes when his brother gave him a quick hug, and then panicking when Dean tried to help him off with his clothes. Adamant tha the would put on his own nightclothes, Sam waited for Dean to go to his own bed and change. His eyes lingered on his brother for a moment, then he dragged his gaze away and quickly changed. Pulling the bedcovers up to his chin, he watched Dean until his brother blew out the candles in their room and told him to go to sleep.

*

In the morning, Sam woke with a start. There was a little light coming in through the shutters, just enough to show him Dean was already about. He started to get out of bed, but then Dean came in and ordered him back to bed. it was early, but it was always early when Dean got up. "Someone's got to make your porridge," he said, putting his feet down on the cold floor and shivering.

It was bitterly cold. It seemed they were having a cold snap. Sam's entire body was shaking as he struggled to get up, when Dean was in front of him, pushing him back into bed. His brother hugged him for a long moment, then ran his hands up and down his body, telling him it was foolish for him to get up on days like this, that he was shivering.

At first Sam was busy apologizing, but then he closed his eyes. He pressed his lips together, squeezing his eyes tight. "Stop... please Dean," he whispered thickly, sounding almost bewildered. "I won't get up... I won't." A small sound broke from the back of his throat, and then Dean was apologizing for squeezing him too tight.

Sam didn't say anything, didn't open his eyes until after his brother left the room.

Before Dean left the farmhouse, he was back upstairs with a steaming bowl of porridge, some bread and cheese and water. "Come home for lunch," Sam said plaintively as his brother disappeared and he could hear him running down the stairs.

* * *

  


  
(Present Day)

 

Dean awoke due to bright light filtering through the slightly parted curtains. Damn it. He'd thought he'd closed them. Normally he might not have cared so much for being woken, even as early as it was. He didn't actually need sleep after all, but he'd been having such a vivid dream.

Samuel. Long before his brother had died. Things had been so simple back then. Sure, life had been hard but they had been happy. It had been just the two of them, but that was all they needed. They had been content… if only they'd been left alone. If only…

Dean hadn't wanted to wake from that dream, and he was angry at the light that had pulled him from his dreams. When was the last time he had seen his brother in his memories so perfectly? The shade of his eyes, the curve of his smile, the sound of his laugh… He'd even remembered things that he didn't even remember noticing as a human. How the younger boy would look at him sometimes… or not look at him. How Samuel would sometimes touch him or react to being touched…

It made him wonder a little if it had even been a memory at all and not a fantasy of his mind. Perhaps conjured up, wishful thinking. To convince himself his brother, his Samuel, might have welcomed the attention that Dean was showing Sam now…

Sam. He was surely the reason why he had dreamt of his brother so vividly. But the boy was not in bed with him now, he was not even in the room. Dean pushed himself up slowly, his eyes quickly scanning the space, lingering on the open door that led from his bedroom to his large bathroom. Thinking perhaps that the boy had just gone there for the moment and would be back… but he wasn't there.

"Sam?" Dean called, but there was no answer. His apartment was far too quiet, and Dean quickly got up. His suite may have been large, but it did not take the demon long to check every room, even ones he knew Sam had no reason for being in. Every room he checked his anger grew and Dean had to admit the simple truth he wanted so badly to deny. Sam was gone. The young man had left. Not even waking him before he'd gone. He'd just… left…

With a roar of rage, Dean picked up the first object within reach, an ancient antique vase and hurled it into the wall with enough force that it dented the wall even as the vase shattered to dust. His demonic energy lashed out. Destroying everything in its path. Throwing furniture. Destroying priceless artwork. Even tearing down walls. Even when everything in the suite was reduced to rubble Dean was left shaking with unspent rage in the middle of the debris. His eyes black as the darkest night.

A part of him, a large part, wanted to go after the young human but much like the first night Sam had run from him, Dean knew he could not. Not yet. In his rage he might do something he knew he would regret later, like tear the fragile mortal to pieces much like his apartment.

So he would wait. There were plenty of other mortals to take out his anger on until he could see Sam again. And make the boy understand it was not wise to toy with the feelings of a demon.

Dean looked around his ruined home in disgust and shook his head. Well… he'd been thinking of redecorating anyway.

* * *

Sam felt foggy-brained and distracted. Between that and the pain that came with sitting, he barely understood what the teacher was talking about. It was apparently so noticeable that the the professor told him he should go to the university clinic and get checked out. _Right, have someone check out my asshole and ask me what the fuck I've been inserting in it._

His cheeks flamed at the thought, as he trudged back to his dorm, backpack over his shoulder. Every once in a while, it would hit him hard ... the fact that he'd gone on a date with a guy, and then let the guy fuck him. And liked it. A lot. He couldn't even explain the way he'd acted, it was so unlike him. He liked to weigh his every step, pre-plan things. The plan had been to get his fucking wallet and leave.

He tried to imagine himself doing just that, but every time he thought of Dean's eyes on him, his voice so low and raspy... he grew all sorts of warm and remembered how much it had been like a force of gravity, or a magnet, a tugging and pulling so strong, he could not for the life of him refuse. Something about that man sucked him in so hard.

_'Sucking' and 'hard'... Bad thoughts! Bad thoughts!_ Almost panicked, he raced across the greens, despite the physical discomfort each running step caused him. Later, behind the closed doors of the his room, he pulled his cock out and brought himself off in record time just thinking about the way Dean looked at him, like he wanted to devour him, as they fucked.

*

"I'm fine, just tired," Sam told the professor. Giving a forced smile, he walked out of class. He was usually on the ball and had a ready answer on the tip of his tongue. Tonight, he'd been called on no less than four times, and each time he'd had to have the question repeated. After class, the professor had stopped him and told him he looked frazzled, and asked what was wrong.

Wrong? Nothing was wrong. He'd had a one night stand, so what? He shouldn't feel guilty over it.  
As he headed to the school's food court, he thought about his feelings some more. No, it wasn't guilt he was feeling. It was fear. It was illogical, there was no reason for it, but he was very afraid of his own feelings. He'd always thought of himself as cool and calm, not real impassioned about anything. But his feelings about one Dean Winchester were so fucking intense, they didn't only confuse, but they hurt.

He took a burger, fries and drink to go. Tonight, he'd keep his mind off Dean by studying hard for tomorrow.

Hours later, he cursed Dean and slammed his books shut. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his mind of Dean. It wasn't even just the sex he kept thinking about. It was the timber of his voice as he spoke, the low chuckle he gave once in a while and the way he made Sam feel. Sam didn't think he was an attention whore. It was quite the opposite. But when he was with Dean, somehow it felt like he held the man's attention, like he was the center of his world for that moment in time. It was crazy, but he couldn't help that it felt that way. At times it was comforting, like being protected from the rest of the world. Other times, it was exciting and dangerous and... yeah, it got his hormones going.

Hitting the light switch with his fist, Sam spoke out loud. "I will not be some lame obsessed kid."

*

He slept, he dreamed, and he woke with one raging hard on after another. It was like before, only worse, because now he knew what it felt like to be touched and fucked by Dean. The need that swept over him was was more precise, sharper somehow. He had lotion next to his bed, and a box of tissues, and if he had to jerk off one more time before dawn he was sure he was going to cry.

Sam felt so damned out of control, he didn't know what to do. He'd bet Dean wasn't going through this shit. By now, he had already forgotten about him. Strangely, that thought didn't comfort him. It had him getting out of bed before dawn. He had to clear his head. He had to find his way back to himself, this just wasn't working for him.

Walking across the room, he grabbed his jogging suit thinking a run was what he needed both for his head, and his body.

*

The next day was no better. Sam still couldn't get his shit together. He was listless and inattentive, and even his friends started to question him. Drew dragged him aside and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Eventually Sam cracked and head hanging down, told him the whole story.

For once, Drew didn't joke around. He basically told Sam that he should do whatever felt right, other than going crazy the way he seemed to be. Course that was easier said than done.

Then there was the fact that Sam didn't know what he wanted. Yeah... he'd liked hanging out with Dean and when he thought about the man, all he could think about was how good his hands felt on him, how well their mouths fit together and that... that feeling of walking on air. But Dean had also disrupted Sam's life, and that part of it, Sam didn't like so much. He wasn't used to being out of control, obsessing over anyone. He liked to be able to study, to be logical and disciplined.

Dean Winchester had somehow taken all of that away from him in one fell swoop. He thought about that green eyed devil too often during the day. And he was damned well tortured by him at night. He liked jerking off as much as any other guy, but waking up for it... that wasn't right.

He couldn't answer Drew when his friend asked him if he was gay, or he'd 'gone gay.' Somehow, he agreed to meet up with his friend for a double date. Drew's girlfriend's cousin was apparently in town.

He got back to his room that night around midnight. He was good and tipsy on beer, and he'd tried his damnedest to have fun. He'd even kissed the girl, pulled her into his lap. She'd been into it, he knew that much, but he'd stopped when he realized it didn't matter what he did, who he kissed or touched, in his mind, he was seeing Dean. That just wasn't fair.

* * *

It was quiet, and then all he could hear was the load roar of the fire and of wood burning under him. His hands were tied behind his back and he couldn't pull free, even as he tugged. There was a sea of faces in front of him, some chanting and shouting, some giving him looks of pity, some soundlessly wishing him a quick and merciful death.

He searched the crowd. Felt his feet start to grow warm, felt the panic build within himself. Then he saw _him_. Green eyes staring at him, tearing but not looking away. The woodpile shifted under him, and he dropped down ankle deep into the fire. Screams erupted from his throat as painful flames peeled his skin and flesh away from bone. He tried to jump forward, toward those eyes... then he saw the panic reflected in them and suddenly stilled. Gritting his teeth together, he tried to hold back on his screams. it wasn't possible, but he stopped trying to fight to get free.

The fire surrounded him, the smell of burning meat nauseated him, and then he'd had all he could bear. He screamed and everything went black.

Sam awoke with a start. His throat hurt, as if he'd really been screaming. The dream was back, full force. Only now, those green eyes were set in a face he remembered, and he had a name for that face... Dean... the name he'd shouted.

Getting up, he headed to the small bathroom to was his face. If this was the alternative to waking with a hard on, he'd rather have to jerk off until his hands were calloused. Yeah, he knew this he couldn't blame Dean for. This dream... he owned it. From ever since he could remember, it would visit him and torture him. Only this time, it had been a hundred times more vivid. And the pain had been far more real.

* * *

Sam was tired. He hadn't slept well, and he still couldn't concentrate much. He'd reached for his phone a couple of times, only to remember he didn't know Dean's number. And even if he did, what was he gonna tell the guy? Yeah you're super hot, and I feel lucky to have met you, but no, we're not doing this again because it makes me go crazy? Right, that would go over like a lead balloon.

All day long, that urge to see Dean, to talk to him, grew stronger. His imagination had him in knots, thinking about telling Dean how he was feeling, or just walking up to him and kissing him, or begging him to stop the pain.

Yeah... pretty much, he was screwed. Staying away wasn't working for him. Freaking out about what he'd done that night wasn't working for him. Trying not to think about Dean wasn't working... hell, he might as well go see the man.

* * *  
First, he'd gone to Dean's place. When Dean didn't answer the door, he'd gone down to the garage to find out if the valet knew where he'd gone. The workers remembered him and said he was at his usual hangout. Dante's.

If he'd been thinking straight, Sam would have waited another day and worked on his bike. Once he got it fixed, he would be able to get around better. Instead, he'd taken the last bus over. if he didn't find Dean, then he'd have to go back by foot, just like he'd done on his birthday. It was fine... but stupid.

He showed his license at the door and was allowed inside. It was a weekday so even though the club was crowded, there hadn't been a line outside.

The music thrummed around him, it's beat insistent and sensuous, making him think of sex with Dean. Licking his lips, his heart banging against his chest, he started looking for him. There were so many people grinding together, touching, making Sam think of that first night when they'd been on the dance floor groping each other. He still couldn't believe he'd been like that, but he was also sure if Dean touched him, he'd react the same way.

After a while, he started to head for the bar, to ask the bartender, but the man's eyes drifted upwards. Standing nearly in the center of the dance floor, Sam looked up and saw the balcony. There was a wrought iron railing, and big couches, and a private party. _Dean!_ His heart constricted seeing the guy who haunted not only his dreams but his daydreams as well.

Dean had an arm around a blonde and was speaking close to her ear, maybe kissing her. There were a couple of guys next to him, clearly trying to get his attention, and a couple dirty dancing nearby. Sam's eyes immediately went back to Dean, the smile he had wavering when the blonde kissed Dean and ran her hand over his chest.

He'd made a mistake. What had even made him think Dean would want him. He'd already had him so it had to be time to find new territory. No, he wasn't gonna analyze how crushed he was, how much he wanted to go into hiding and never come out. He took a single stagger-step back, then felt a jolt go through him as Dean's gaze met his, piercing through him. Like a deer trapped in headlights, he was powerless to walk away.

* * *

The last few days had been… difficult… for the demon.

A few phone calls and enough money had his apartment back into order within a day and a half despite all the damage Dean had done to it. The walls were repainted, the floors re-carpeted or re-tiled, new drapes, new furniture, new appliances, and new pieces of artwork pulled from the vast amounts he had in storage. Everything was neat and pristine, shining and new, orderly… the complete opposite of how Dean felt inside.

The days following the night he’d first seen Sam had been bad enough. When his desires for the beautiful boy had been all but insatiable and nothing could quiet the burning hunger he’d felt for the young man. He had managed to dampen that hunger somewhat, sooth the fires of his lust in the bodies of other mortals in various ways, at least enough to keep him… sane. So that on their next meeting Dean had not simply raped the boy and torn his body to shreds in the process.

Now? It was even worse because he had no desire to bed any other mortals, no matter how beautiful they might be. Kill them? Oh, he’d done plenty of that. Dean had collected on a few of his contracts himself rather than sending hellhounds to finish the job and it had been quite satisfying.

But once the screaming stopped and the blood started to dry on his fingers his thoughts would turn immediately back to Sam. A part of him wanted to go find the boy and punish him, to make him scream and beg, in pleasure, in pain, both... Maybe to prove to himself that Sam meant nothing to him. He was just another pathetic meat sack like all the rest of them…

But Dean knew that was a lie he could not even make himself believe as much as Sam had angered him. So Dean waited. His anger going from boiling rage to a low simmer over the next few days while he busied himself with ‘work’. But tonight he wanted something different. Tonight he wanted to play.

So he’d gone to Dante’s and while it was only a week day there were plenty of beautiful young mortals there willing to give him his every desire, obey his every command. He’d selected a handful, each one of them gorgeous, perfect examples of youth, and taken them to the private area for his pleasure. He’d ordered food and drink for them to enjoy. Danced with each in turn, or sometimes together, fondling them boldly beneath their clothes. He’d decided he would take them all back to a luxurious penthouse hotel room, let them fuck each other while he watched and pleasure him, then the fun could really begin…

Then… he felt something. Just like that night.

Dean turned his attention away from the young female groping him, completely ignoring her now because she wasn’t important. None of them were. Just like that night, somehow out of the entire crowd his eyes zeroed in on Sam. His eyes locking with the young man’s and the sparks were practically visible even across the room.

The girl, irritated at having lost his attention, started trying to regain it and Dean simply pushed her away without taking his eyes off of Sam. Dean started for the stairs that would take him down to the dance floor. 

* * *

Sam was truly surprised when Dean pushed his girlfriend or whatever away and got up so quickly. He'd been sure that Dean had moved on. The guy hadn't lied to him. From the first day they'd met, he'd made it pretty clear he came here to let off steam, and sampled whoever he wanted.

He watched as Dean walked down the narrow spiral stairs, hardly breathing under the intensity of his gaze. His lips parted as Dean reached the dance floor and headed towards him with graceful, purposeful steps. Dean's face was unsmiling, maybe a little forbidding and predatory. It made Sam want to squirm or run, just like he had that morning. Why... why did he keep hoping that the next time he saw this man, he'd find that he'd lost whatever power he held over him? It was still there, pulling him toward Dean at the same time as his flight instincts kicked in.

Someone bumped into Sam and mumbled an apology he barely acknowledged. And then Dean was there, right in front of him in the flesh. Sam's pulse beat out of control. He wished he had a clue what Dean was thinking, what he wanted or expected. He licked his lip and spoke softly, unsure if he'd be heard above the sound of the music. "I didn't mean to..." He looked up, toward the balcony, then back at Dean. "You didn't have to leave your friends. I can..."

God. Just what was it about Dean? He was nervous as hell, but for the first time in days... focused. Focused on Dean and the way he made him feel. Alive. Excited. Scared, like he was about to fall of the edge of a cliff. And yet... he was sure Dean would catch him. But it was all just inside his head, Sam knew it. Dean could make him feel special, but it didn't make him special. No more special than the girls and guys he'd been with upstairs.

* * *

Sam’s eyes never left him as Dean slowly approached the young man. Dean liked the fact that the young man’s attention was so riveted on him and only him they might as well have been the only two people in the room, everyone else meaningless. Though the young man also had a decidedly nervous demeanor about him, the look in those eyes watching him almost scared, and Dean was still angry enough at Sam that he liked that as well.

Even though the demon _was_ pleased that the young mortal had sought him out again.  
There was no other reason for Sam to be here, after all. Even though this was where he’d first laid eyes on the beautiful young man this was not a place for Sam. Dean would have known that even if the young man hadn’t told him that many times already. But once more Sam was here, he’d come back to him, and this time the young man did not have the excuse of a lost wallet for his motives.

Still, Dean was not pleased at how Sam had left him that morning and the young man deserved to be punished. Just a little. A little torture would be good for the boy, in Dean’s opinion.

The demon arched an eyebrow slightly at the young man’s soft, almost stuttering, half apology.

“Didn’t mean to, what exactly? You can leave? Are you saying you didn’t come here looking for me then?” Dean asked, neither his face nor voice giving anything away. 

* * *

Sam didn't know what he'd expected, but this wasn't it. Dean was good at putting him at ease and calming him down, but his coolness and questions had the exact opposite affect. His stomach clenched and churned as he searched Dean's face, trying to read behind those eyes that could make him hot with need... did make him hot with need. He ran his hand through his hair trying to find the words that seemed to stick in his throat.

"I was looking or you. I ah... went to your place and you weren't in," he nodded. "So I came the only other place I know that you might be." Dean would never know how hard it had been, how he angsted over the decision. If staying away hadn't literally been painful, if it hadn't interfered with his life so bad, Sam was pretty sure he'd never have come, never made himself go through this... this anxiety.

Still, Dean didn't say a thing to smooth over the awkwardness of the moment. It was like he was waiting for more, for answers to the rest of his questions when all Sam wanted at this moment was to feel Dean's strong arms close around him, and his low gravelly voice whisper that it would be okay. Was he angry that Sam had come looking for him? "I didn't mean to... to interrupt your _party_." And why should Dean choose him, inexperienced and awkward as he was, when he had the choice the people he'd been hanging with on the private balcony, none of them with hangups, all of them more like Dean than Sam would ever be.

"I just..." he blew a hot breath out and leaned in, one hand on Dean's shoulder as he spoke close to his ear, afraid to speak the words too loud. "I don't know what's happening to me. I can't stop thinking about you. I don't have anyone else to talk to about this, thought you might..."

He sounded fucking nuts, and he knew it. Pulling back, he swallowed. "It's not your problem. I'll leave. Sorry about... yeah about this," he whispered on a sob. Maybe he'd get one of those smokey drinks on the way out... something, anything to take his mind off Dean and to stop making a fool of himself.

* * *

Sam practically squirmed under his gaze, and there was more than just nervousness or awkwardness in the younger man’s eyes. There was pain. Real pain. The young man was obviously torn by his decision to come back here, looking for him. But Dean did nothing to alleviate the young man’s obvious discomfort.

After all, it was Sam’s fault. Sam had left him after all, and he deserved to be punished for it. Any pain the young man was in was of his own making. At the same time, the obvious misery on the young man’s face tugged at feelings inside of Dean that the demon honestly didn’t think existed inside of him anymore.

Pity, for one.

Dean wondered if it was because Sam was so like his Samuel. Dean would have done… had done… anything for his brother, he loved that boy so much. The last thing Dean ever wanted was to see his brother hurting much less be the cause of that hurt.

When the young man leaned in close to him Dean’s eyes slid closed. The young man’s voice was so low that Dean could barely hear the soft whisper over the throbbing pulse of the loud techno music, but at the same time it was all he could hear. It was the only thing that mattered anyway. Sam’s soft breath against his ear, the warm press of the hand on his shoulder, and that beautiful body mere inches from his own, so close he could feel the heat.

But then the young man was pulling away, and finally Dean moved, reaching out to grasp the young man’s arm in a firm but gentle grip, pulling Sam back to him. When his eyes slid open again, Sam’s soft hazel were about all he could see they were so close.

“I don’t want you to leave.” He whispered.

* * *

Despondent at the lack of reaction from Dean, Sam had been ready to walk away. His eyes widened when he was suddenly pulled so close to Dean that their mouths were only inches apart. His heart hammered against his chest so loudly that he barely heard Dean's whispered response. Though he wasn't sure what he wanted, what he needed from Dean, a sense of relief washed over him. Dean wasn't going to leave him to twist in the wind and to try to figure this thing out on his own. "Thanks, Dean," he whispered back, not sure whether to read more into Dean's words than he was willing to talk.

Slowly, Sam pulled away. "Can we..." he nodded toward the bar. "Maybe get a drink and talk, or get out of here, go somewhere quiet?"

Without answering him, Dean just pulled him toward the stairs. Sam looked up at the balcony, and wasn't sure that was a good place to talk. He didn't argue though, he followed Dean up the spiral metal stairs once Dean let go of him. As climbed, he had a birds eye view of the dance floor. The way some people were dancing together, grinding their bodies against each other made him flush with heat. That's how he and Dean had been on that night they'd met. He still had trouble believing he'd been like them, but he had to admit that Dean was like some sort of magnet he couldn't resist.

When they reached the top of the stairs, the blonde immediately came up to them and put both arms around Dean's shoulders. Sam stiffened, hearing her whisper to Dean.

"What took you so long, baby? I missed you," she said breathily, leaning in to kiss him with her perfect Barbie lips.

Sam looked away and tried to get a hold of the emotions raging inside him when one of the guys in the group came to him and placed a warm palm on his cheek and asked for a 'sample' of his party favors. Jerking away, Sam moved behind Dean, then eyed the stairs. This wasn't what he'd had in mind and every fiber in his body told him to run. The only thing that held him in place was his apparently traitorous body. It seemed he'd somehow worked his hand into Dean's waistband and was gripping his belt as if for protection. What the hell... Slowly, he forced himself to let go.

* * *

The sheer relief the demon could see in the young man’s eyes… confused him. Or maybe more correctly, the feelings it stirred inside of him was what confused him. Sam shouldn’t be relieved. The boy shouldn’t be thanking him. He should be running as fast as he could to the other side of the fucking planet, not that it would stop Dean from finding him, but still that’s what the boy _should_ be doing.

Dean thought he could read people pretty well. It came with the territory after all, figuring out exactly what someone wanted and would be willing to trade their soul for. But with Sam, he honestly didn’t know what the boy wanted. Sam had run away from him once right here on the dance floor even though the boy obviously wanted him, wanted what Dean had offered. Then Sam had come back ‘for his wallet’ and eagerly took everything the demon had offered and begged for more, only to run from him again the next morning. Now he was back again… and Dean had no intention of letting the young man run away from him again no matter what Sam wanted.

Those were the demon’s thoughts as he steered Sam through the crowd of mortals back towards his private balcony. A drink… a talk… and more if Dean had anything to say in the matter. The demon was not one to deny himself, and oddly enough Dean had done so quite often for this boy, but not now. Sam should have stayed away. The young man had awoken something inside of him that night, and Dean hadn’t had nearly enough time to lock it away once more. He would have the boy again, and again, before this night was over.

Dean had almost forgotten about the other mortals he’d chosen earlier until one of the bitches came up to him and wrapped her arms around him once more. The taste of… jealousy… Dean could pick up from the young man behind him would have been satisfying if not for the sudden rage he felt when one of the other young men dared to touch Sam. Dared to touch what was his…

When Sam jerked away from the other man and moved behind him Dean was even more surprised by the feeling of… protectiveness… both familiar and foreign that washed through him. Ironic indeed since Dean knew all too well that Sam didn’t need protection from these mortals. It was Dean himself the boy truly needed protection from.

The demon pushed the woman away from him almost roughly and the dark glare he gave the young mortals he could tell sent chills down many of their spines.

“Get out. All of you.” He said darkly and even though his voice was pitched low he knew his message had been heard. They’d gotten off light in his opinion, since he would have loved to snap that boy’s wrist who’d dared to touch what belonged to him. As they rushed to obey him, leaving he and Sam now alone on the private balcony, Dean turned back to the young man and his expression softened.

“What would you like to drink? Hungry?” Dean asked as he motioned for the boy to sit on one of the plush couches. There was still plenty of food and drink left from his ‘party’ and if Sam wanted something else he could easily call up a waitress and order it. 

* * *

Sam's face jerked up when Dean ordered his 'guests' to get out. Sure he was relieved, and more than glad that that woman was no longer hanging over Dean, but a part of him questioned the situation. Dean had been entertaining or been entertained by these people only a little while ago. Now he tossed them out like he hadn't invited them, or like they were yesterday's trash. That could be himself at some point. He knew that he better get that, understand it, or he might find himself more confused and fucked up than he already was. He kept telling himself that, like it was a mantra until Dean spoke with him again.

Right there. The way Dean looked at him, it made it hard for Sam to think... to believe Dean would get rid of him in the same way he had those other people. The rational part of his mind told him that those others probably thought that too, before it happened. But basking in the heat of that gaze, it was difficult to stay rational. It was like his braincells shorted out and all that was left was his heart and emotions. Not real smart... not smart at all.

"I've eaten," he answered, moving to the center couch and sitting down. He'd eaten a few bites, but his stomach was just too nervous to hold more and he didn't want to eat now. On the table next to the sofa, there were liquor bottles. Hard liquor, something he didn't want or need. That smokey drink he'd had here sounded good, but he didn't want to be any trouble. His gaze went to the ice bucket on the coffee table. "I'll try the champagne," he offered, leaning forward to fill up an empty flute glass. Seeing the label identified the champagne as Dom Perignon, he glanced at Dean, then poured a second glass. Yeah, he had no clue how much it cost, but everyone knew Dom Perignon was expensive.

He waited until Dean came over and sat down, then he wiped his palms on his thighs before reaching for his glass. Taking a few large swallows, he honestly couldn't see why it should be so expensive. He'd had champagne before, on various New Years and when his family had celebrations going. He'd never thought the stuff tasted great, and this wasn't an exception. Still, what he needed was to take the edge off, and this was as good a way as any. But he didn't intend to get stinking drunk... no way. He had to keep his head.

Licking his lips clean of the champagne, he looked over at Dean. "How... how've you been?" He'd already spilled about not having been doing too well himself, and yeah, he'd probably elaborate, but he he had to work himself up to it. "I ah... I didn't have your number." He looked down, unsure whether he would have had the courage to call. 

* * *

Sam's face jerked up when Dean ordered his 'guests' to get out. Sure he was relieved, and more than glad that that woman was no longer hanging over Dean, but a part of him questioned the situation. Dean had been entertaining or been entertained by these people only a little while ago. Now he tossed them out like he hadn't invited them, or like they were yesterday's trash. That could be himself at some point. He knew that he better get that, understand it, or he might find himself more confused and fucked up than he already was. He kept telling himself that, like it was a mantra until Dean spoke with him again.

Right there. The way Dean looked at him, it made it hard for Sam to think... to believe Dean would get rid of him in the same way he had those other people. The rational part of his mind told him that those others probably thought that too, before it happened. But basking in the heat of that gaze, it was difficult to stay rational. It was like his braincells shorted out and all that was left was his heart and emotions. Not real smart... not smart at all.

"I've eaten," he answered, moving to the center couch and sitting down. He'd eaten a few bites, but his stomach was just too nervous to hold more and he didn't want to eat now. On the table next to the sofa, there were liquor bottles. Hard liquor, something he didn't want or need. That smokey drink he'd had here sounded good, but he didn't want to be any trouble. His gaze went to the ice bucket on the coffee table. "I'll try the champagne," he offered, leaning forward to fill up an empty flute glass. Seeing the label identified the champagne as Dom Perignon, he glanced at Dean, then poured a second glass. Yeah, he had no clue how much it cost, but everyone knew Dom Perignon was expensive.

He waited until Dean came over and sat down, then he wiped his palms on his thighs before reaching for his glass. Taking a few large swallows, he honestly couldn't see why it should be so expensive. He'd had champagne before, on various New Years and when his family had celebrations going. He'd never thought the stuff tasted great, and this wasn't an exception. Still, what he needed was to take the edge off, and this was as good a way as any. But he didn't intend to get stinking drunk... no way. He had to keep his head.

Licking his lips clean of the champagne, he looked over at Dean. "How... how've you been?" He'd already spilled about not having been doing too well himself, and yeah, he'd probably elaborate, but he he had to work himself up to it. "I ah... I didn't have your number." He looked down, unsure whether he would have had the courage to call. 

* * *

Dean gave a simple nod, his eyes following the young mortal as Sam moved over to one of the couches and sat. The demon followed, sitting down close to the nervous looking young man but not so close as to be in his personal space. Dean lounged, half turned towards the young man, and his arm draped casually over the back of the couch. He could easily touch the other man’s shoulder or neck with his fingertips this way, but for now he didn’t. For now he was actually a little curious about what the young man had to say and didn’t want to distract him. Unless of course whatever Sam said was something the demon didn’t want to hear.

When Sam started by asking him how _he’d_ been, Dean arched an eyebrow at the young man. He wondered if the boy was just making polite conversation, or if he really wanted to know? Dean supposed it didn’t matter, because the young man certainly wouldn’t want to hear the truth and the demon wasn’t really in the mood to come up with a lie either.

“I’ve been working.” He finally replied with a half shrug, deciding to give a half truth instead.

“You didn’t exactly give me the chance to give it to you.” Dean then stated the obvious. Reminding the young man it had been Sam who’d left that morning without a word.

* * *

Sam's head snapped up. Trying to read behind Dean's eyes tonight was impossible, but there was censure in his tone. "Yeah..." he ran his hand through his hair. "I didn't want to wake you. Early classes," he shrugged. Dean's gaze pierced through him, like he was waiting for the truth, the whole truth. He grimaced and gestured with his hand. "I panicked. I don't know why... I just... I woke up in someone else's room, a guy," his voice dropped. "And I just... I didn't know what I was doing there, Dean. I don't know what I'm doing here, now."

Letting out a breath, he took his glass and downed the champagne then refilled the glass. He turned back, his eyes downcast, afraid to look into Dean's eyes. "You probably think I'm a freak, I mean, we're so different. You... you know, every night, with someone else, those people who were here." The words tasted bitter as he forced them out, but he knew Dean was a player, the guy had told him that from the first night. "Me," he gave a small laugh. "I never even thought about a guy, any guy. And now you have me wondering if I'm gay and... I don't know. I don't know what _this_ is, or even if I can do this."

He licked his lips and finally looked. "Or not do this. It's like I'm screwed either way." He felt his cheeks warm, and huffed. "Not literally." Or maybe, yeah. "Is this... is this too much to lay on you?" He really, really didn't know who else to talk to. Drew's ideas were usually limited to dating others or screwing others. But it didn't take care of how he was feeling inside. "I should shut up. I'm shutting up," he nodded, and had a little more of his drink.

* * *

Early classes… right… Dean wondered if he should be insulted, that the young man actually thought he was that much of an idiot to believe that. The disapproval and disbelief must have shown on his face because Sam quickly amended his story. Though the demon wasn’t any more pleased by the young man’s truthful answer.

Sam said he didn’t know why he’d ‘panicked’ but it was pretty obvious that the young man did. Considering he’d even said why. Because he’d woken up with a guy. Because he’d slept with a man. Because now Sam was afraid he was (gasp) gay.

Dean knew he shouldn’t be disappointed that the young man was obviously so closed minded, but he was. Samuel had always been open to new ideas, hell, his brother had thrived on them. Even though homosexuality was much more taboo than it was now, Dean was sure his brother would not have ‘freaked out’ so easily over the concept.

Of course Dean didn’t know for certain that this young man and his brother were one in the same. Even as similar as they were, even though he suspected… he wasn’t sure. He would need to find out for certain, find proof, soon, one way or another.

Then again, even his brother Samuel might have panicked more than a little at the idea of sleeping with his own brother. Could Sam’s ‘freaking out’ somehow be attributed to that, more than the fact he was a man? If Sam subconsciously knew him… possibly…

Dean sighed heavily, finally reaching for the second glass of champagne that Sam had poured, even though he had a feeling this conversation was going to make him wish for something harder. He took a drink from the glass before answering the young man.

“So, if I weren’t a man, you wouldn’t be freaking out, is that it?” Dean asked almost casually, though there was a slight reproach in his tone as well. He took another drink before continuing in a more neutral tone. “I never asked for a ring, Sam. When I said no strings attached, I meant it.”

Of course that was a lie, but Dean knew if he behaved too possessively right now it would only scare the young man more. He needed to sooth the spooked boy first, before he could begin making Sam his.

“But when I said I wanted you more than anyone that was true too. It still is. If you want there to be a ‘this’ then I’m willing to take it slow and see what happens.” 

* * *

If Dean meant to make him feel foolish, his crack about never having asked for a ring from him was very effective. Sam was embarrassed, and maybe a little hurt, but he didn't look away. His fingers tightened around the delicate glass in his hand, knuckles whitening as he fought against the temptation of leaving. Of leaving and curling up in a ball in his own bed and just waiting for all this to go away, for the confusion to clear, for him to come to himself. "No," he whispered too softly, then cleared his throat. "No, honestly I don't think I'd feel different if you were a woman."

He licked his lips. "It's not..." He pressed one hand into the sofa, squeezing the cushion and releasing. "It's not the gay thing, other than I'd like to know if I am, or I'm not." He raised his hand, dismissing that notion with a hand gesture. "It's that I'm not acting like _me_. I don't sleep around and there I was, waking up at your place, my clothes dropped all over the floor. The fact that you're a guy just made it doubly unlike me." He took a deep breath, trying to explain himself. "I don't get obsessed by things, think about them for hours... I'm just not like that. But since I met you, I haven't been able to concentrate, to focus and I feel completely off balance." He gestured again. "And it's like there's something, a piece of the puzzle that's missing... and I don't even know what the fucking puzzle is."

God, he sounded crazy. Dean was going to tell him to leave, like he had to those other people. "Dreams, " he nodded. "You're in them, and don't bother asking what they are but in one of them..." He drank the rest of the champagne and got up, started to pace. "You're not supposed to be in _that_ one, or you were in it all along and I just couldn't see you before, I don't know. It's a dream I've had since forever, I can't fucking shake it." He wiped his face. "But how is it possible, when I never saw you before?" He turned and looked at Dean, confirming those were the green eyes in his dream. Eyes that were filled with anguish and glistened with tears, but never looked away from him, never.

"I'm not drunk, and I'm not crazy, even if it sounds like it. I like you. A lot," he said, his voice slightly husky. "I had a good time here, at that restaurant and at your place. I don't _know you_ but I feel... connected?" He gave a half shrug as he struggled to put his feelings into words. "So when I say I don't know if I can do _this_ , it has nothing to do with you. It's me. I don't know if I can handle walking around feeling this. And you," he searched Dean's face. "How can you want this... me?" Sure the words had made his heart kick up a notch, but Sam had trouble believing them. "You have everything, could have anyone."

* * *

Dean listened as Sam tried to explain himself in silent. Merely watching silently as the young man got up and started to pace in agitation, trying to put to words things he’d never had to feel before. Desire, obsession, want, and need… things that the demon was all too familiar with, though he supposed they could be frightening to someone like Sam who’d never felt such base human emotions so strongly before.

He couldn’t deny that the obvious obsession the young man had with him pleased the demon greatly. Even knowing what obvious pain and confusion it was causing Sam, the fact that the beautiful boy wanted him so much, it was practically tearing him apart, was one hell of an aphrodisiac.

If he was anything but what he was, Dean might have felt pity for the young man. Instead, Dean wanted nothing more than to push Sam up against the wall and have him again, right now, begging for him.

Control… patience… Dean didn’t need to take anything from Sam, since it was obvious that the boy would _give_ it to him willingly. As soon as he stopped fighting it, that was.

Dean couldn’t deny he was very curious about the dreams Sam mentioned, but he could save those questions for another time. Finally when Sam stopped and looked at him again, Dean stood up and approached the young man slowly. Trying to appear as non threatening as possible even as he crowded into the boy’s personal space. His hands coming up to rest gently on each side of the young man’s neck, his thumbs gently caressing Sam’s cheeks.

“Sam… I think you’re being a little hard on yourself and not completely honest either. How often have you forgotten to eat or sleep, your mind constantly occupied with the design of some new gadget you are building? How often have you studied obsessively, thinking of nothing else, but your next school exam? The difference is because you’ve told yourself that these obsessions are right, they are proper, and socially acceptable.”

Dean brushed his thumb and pressed gently against Sam’s lips to make sure the young man remained silent and simply listened to him until he’d finished.

“Life is not static, Sam. Life is constant change. Wants change. Desires change. And now you’ve found something that you want and desire more. Me. That’s normal, Sam. People, they should mean more to you than trivial things like grades and gadgets. You say you don’t sleep around. Fine. Just because you slept with me, that doesn’t make you a whore. Were you planning on staying a virgin your entire life?”

Stepping a little closer to Sam, the front of their bodies almost touching, Dean let his hands slide down over the young man’s shoulders and down his back. His hands coming to rest at the base of Sam’s spine. He was close enough now he was sure that the young man could feel his every breath caress his lips.

“You like me. I like you. Why is that a bad thing? Stop questioning it, Sam. It’s not that you want me that’s causing you pain, Sam. It’s trying to deny to yourself that you want me. I could have anyone… but I want you.”

* * *

When Dean walked up to him, Sam's pulse predictably kicked up about ten notches. And Dean didn't stop a few feet away, no, he walked right on into his space, holding his face between his hands. The slow strokes of his thumbs along Sam's cheeks were a gesture of caring, but a part of Sam also understood he was being forced to look into Dean's eyes and that it was a controlling move too.

The analogies Dean gave him made sense in some ways. Yeah, that was exactly how he was. If he was in the middle of a project, there were times when he hardly slept or stopped to eat. But that was different. Just when he was going to argue though that that emotions weren't tied into his projects, Dean pressed his lips, made them burn and crave for another type of contact, effectively shutting him up so Dean could have his say.

Yeah, he had found something he wanted too much. This man. Only he still wasn't sure how he wanted Dean, and why he couldn't shut his mind off, why he craved him in his waking and sleeping moments. Wasn't it too much? Too much desire? The too accurate description had him swallowing hard, then Dean's question about whether he'd intended to remain a virgin forever had him blushing.

Before he could take even another breath, he found himself enveloped by Dean's arms, their bodies touching, heat from Dean's body seeping right through his clothes. He was suddenly so fucking aware of Dean, of every hard line of his body, his scent, his nearness, he could barely think. That wasn't fair. And it wasn't fair that Dean's deep, slightly raspy voice wrapped around him like a full body caress and made Sam want to drop to his knees. Dean's words, his hot breaths teased Sam, had him hot and needy... aching, hurting for something only Dean could give him.

Shivering, he swayed closer to Dean, his burning mouth slip-sliding against Dean's. Why did he have to resist? Dean was right, there wasn't any real reason for it. Dean wanted him. Sam wanted to give himself to Dean, it shouldn't be as complicated as he was making it. Frustrated with himself, and with the days of agony he'd suffered, Sam re-positioned his mouth over Dean's in a clearer message of what he wanted, needed right now. His eyes closed as he opened his mouth to Dean, sucking lightly in invitation, his fingers closing around Dean's forearms, holding tight in contrast to the gentleness of his mouth pressed against Dean's.

* * *

Dean could see the denial melting away in the young man’s eyes. The resistance, slight though it was, in Sam’s body faded as the boy relaxed into him and moved closer. The fight leaving the beautiful young man as their lips touched and victory had never tasted so sweet. As Sam gave into him, the young man’s lips warm and inviting against his own, Dean pressed his mouth more firmly against those soft lips. His own tongue flicking out to taste and tease as the demon pulled the boy’s body closer to his own and Dean started to move.

Much like that night they’d danced for the first time his body rubbed up against Sam’s and he could feel every line and curve of hard muscle beneath the young man’s clothes. His hands started to slide up and down the body he had memorized that night, caressing the boy’s back, ass, and hips. Pressing their groins closer together, letting Sam feel his dick starting to harden thanks to the stimulation.

His movements, even though they were slight, were not random, and soon Dean had pushed Sam up against one of the walls. Dean pressed his body firmly against the other man’s, practically pinning Sam to the wall with his body as his tongue delved deeper into the young man’s mouth. He kissed Sam hard and deep, pouring all of his passion into the contact.

He wanted Sam here, now, he did not want to wait to be alone or in privacy. Dean wanted to fuck the beautiful boy right here up against this wall, where anyone who bothered to look up could see them and watch as he made Sam his. Watch as he made Sam beg for more while he fucked him and either wish to have him or wish to be him, but they would have neither. 

* * *

Sam willingly let Dean pull him closer, until their bodies fit together and there was no space between them. His skin burned everywhere he was connected with Dean, everywhere their bodies slid together as they swayed ... his chest, his hips, and legs. Dean's hands roamed over him, firm and possessive, spreading the fire and heat. He moaned softly as he was molded, his heart skipping as he felt Dean's arousal pressing insistently into his thigh.

He was dizzy, spinning out of control now that everything he'd been craving, needs he'd been fighting against for days, were suddenly met. Maybe it was the lack of hesitation on Dean's part, the full control he took over the situation, but Sam was swept along and powerless to resist. _More._ His body, his soul craved more of everything. Of Dean's kisses, of the things he was making him feel and desire, of the euphoric feelings that eclipsed everything... everything else.

Dean's mouth was wet and hot against his, aggressive, his tongue sliding in and out, taking over... taking Sam completely over. Sam gripped Dean's shoulders, moving with him, letting him do whatever he wanted until he found his back pressed against the wall and didn't even know how they got there. Trapped between Dean's body and the wall, Sam could only thrust his hips against Dean's, trying to get a little relief for his swollen cock straining painfully against his jeans.

A pained, needy groan broke from Sam. He moved his hands down Dean's body, desperate, clutching at his hips, his hard ass, trying to get impossibly closer. Fuck... he couldn't fathom how he could fell this much, want so much. When Dean roughly kicked his legs apart and stepped between them, Sam's entire body clenched hard. God, did Dean know how he was affecting him? How the rub of their jeans encased cocks was making him throb and driving him insane now? "Dean..." he whispered breathlessly before his mouth was taken again in a deep kiss.

The things Dean was doing to him had him so fucking aroused, tremors raced through Sam's body. He was in heaven, in hell, he didn't really know or care. He felt the press of Dean's warm palm under his shirt, over his stomach, and jerked against him. His mouth broke away from Dean's, slipping over Dean's ear. Between hot breaths gusting from between his lips, Sam whispered, "need you. Need to get out of here." The sexual charge between them was too strong, if Dean didn't break this off now and help him return to his senses, Sam didn't know what would happen.

* * *

It was pretty clear that Sam was just as desperate, maybe even more so, as the demon was for Dean to fuck him again. The way the young man clutched at him. The way Sam begged him with his moans and every move of his body. Dean knew it even before Sam’s whispered words, barely discernable over the loud thumping of the techno music.

Though when Sam said they needed to get out of here, Dean merely grinned, and he was sure the young man felt it their lips were so close. Instead of answering Sam however, Dean merely kissed the boy again hard. Not letting either of them up for air until they were both panting. When he finally did he leaned in even closer to the young man if it was possible, pressing Sam harder up against the wall, his breath warm and tickling over the boy’s ear as he whispered.

“Turn around.”

Dean didn’t even really give the young man the time to obey him, or even think about what the command meant, before he was guiding Sam around. Pulling back just enough to allow him to move the young man and then press his body up against Sam’s now from behind. Dean rubbed his hard cock against the curve of the young man’s ass as his hands slid everywhere he could reach over Sam’s body. He touched the young man from his shoulders and back to his thighs, then around to his front, sliding up underneath Sam’s shirt to caress his chest.

He pinched Sam’s nipples while he sucked on the young man’s neck for a while, loving every groan and moan of pleasure he pulled from Sam’s kiss swollen lips. Then his hands worked their way back down, one of them cupping and caressing the young man’s cock through his jeans while his other hand went about unbuttoning them. 

* * *

The wicked grin was no answer to Sam's request that they get out of there, and Sam was pretty sure that the kiss wasn't either. Once Dean's mouth worked over his, Sam was swept away in the moment. Pressed back against the wall, he felt every contour of Dean's hard body, imagined him naked and in bed and wanted so badly to be writhing under him when relief would be possible. By the time Dean broke the kiss, Sam was completely breathless, moaning softly as Dean ground his hips closer. As he felt Dean's mouth move over his ear and felt his hot breaths fanning against his skin, his eyes closed. Arching restlessly against him, he almost choked at the unexpected command.

As if in slow motion, Sam found himself turned around and facing the wall. He never had a chance to put his thoughts in order, not with the way Dean was grinding his hard cock against his ass and making him hot with memories of Dean breaching him, filling him, fucking him within an inch of his life. He felt Dean's hands slip under his shirt and they were everywhere, sweeping up and down his stomach and chest, leaving trails of fire in their wake. "Deeeean," he breathed, his hands flat on the wall, his head hanging down as he reminded himself to breathe.

The sudden pinching of his nipples had Sam jerking back, his neck pressing more firmly against Dean's wet lips and his ass grinding against Dean's cock. "Oh God... what are you doing to me?" he asked, moaning loader as Dean's hand moved down and stroked his jeans encased cock. His cock thickened and strained against his jeans. Sam couldn't help thrusting against Dean's hand, his movements desperate and needy, pleas falling from his lips, needing to be touched under the rough material of his pants.

So good, so fucking good, Sam moved back and forth like he was a toy in Dean's hands. He barely noticed his zipper being pulled down, but once Dean's hand touched his bare flesh and closed around his dripping cock, Sam gave a sound of relief. "Yeah... yeah, jerk me off," he practically demanded, leaning back against Dean, fucking his fist as hard as he could, needing release so bad, he couldn't think any farther than that.

 

* * *

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.” Dean whispered in reply to the boy’s desperate command, smiling as Sam fucked into his fist and the demon gave the young man exactly what he wanted. Stroking Sam’s thick dripping cock with long steady movements, his other hand moving down to grip the boy’s hip tightly to control his almost frantic movements. He didn’t want Sam to bring himself off too soon, of course. Sam was not going to come before Dean was ready for him to come.

He wanted the boy in that place where he was beyond thought. Beyond anything rational where he was only listening to the needs of his body. And since Dean had complete control over Sam’s body, the beautiful boy would willingly obey anything that the demon commanded of him.

Dean continued to rub his hard cock against the young man’s firm ass as his fingers rubbed over the leaking head of Sam’s dick. Gathering the fluids dripping from the tip and slicking his fingers generously. Then, hardening himself to Sam’s protests, he released the young man’s needy cock and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans, pushing them down to reveal that beautiful ass.

Groaning hungrily, Dean licked his lips as he watched his fingers slide down the cleft of that perfect ass, searching for the tight hot hole that belonged to him. Taking Sam’s cock back in hand he started to stroke the boy’s cock again as his fingers wasted no time breaching that tight ring of flesh. Two slick fingers pushing their way deep into the young man’s body, fucking in an out and scissoring slowly. Making Sam ready for him.

After preparing the boy only enough that he was sure that he wouldn’t tear the young man, Dean removed his fingers and then released his cock from the confines of his jeans. He was so hard it was almost painful as he slicked himself up with what remained of Sam’s precome on his fingers and his own leaking fluids. Kicking Sam’s legs apart a little wider, Dean pressed the head of his cock against the young man’s hole and giving the boy no chance to protest, started to push his way inside. 

* * *

Sam needed to come so bad. He could have too, if Dean weren't holding him so tight, preventing him from thrusting harder into Dean's fist and getting the pressure he needed. Though he was whispering reassuring words, it wasn't helping the building desperation with which Sam needed to come. "Please... please Dean, please," he begged, trying to break Dean's iron grip on his hip.

The shock of the sudden loss of Dean's hand around his cock had Sam complaining loudly. Was Dean playing with him? Didn't he get how badly he'd needed him for days? How badly he needed release like now?

Suddenly, he felt his jeans get tugged down and the cool air hitting his bare ass. "Dean!" Half panicked at the view he was giving, and half panicked that he wasn't going to get the release he craved, he tried to collect his thoughts, first he needed to pull up his pants, then run to the bathroom and--

His heart lurched when he felt Dean's fingers move between his ass cheeks. He didn't mean to... not here. "Dean?" he asked, rooted to the spot, needing his lover's touch but so very afraid of what was coming. He gave a soft cry when Dean's fingers invaded him. He wanted to say 'no,' but now that Dean was stroking his cock again, he found he'd been robbed of all will. Leaning his forehead against the cool wall, he concentrated on fucking Dean's fist, on getting what he needed, getting there fast.

He was almost shocked when Dean kicked his legs apart. Then he felt his thick blunt tip at his entrance and despite the way his cock twitched, he whispered "no... no Dean." Dean wasn't listening, or he hadn't heard him over the music, but he was relentlessly pushing inside him.

Sam's fingers curled up and pressed against the wall. He whimpered, "hurts, Dean..." Tears stung his eyes as he realized unlike their first time, Dean wasn't gonna stop, wasn't gonna let him get used to it. He tried to resent him for it, to be angry, but too soon he found himself bucking into that fist stroking him just right. He groaned when Dean's hips finally pressed against his ass and he was fully inside him.

He was stretched so far, so full with Dean's cock inside him, so vulnerable with everyone seeing what they were doing. There was pain, and there was pleasure, and Sam didn't know if that was normal, if he was normal. Why wasn't he pushing Dean away? Why was there this need inside him, to please Dean? Christ, he hadn't known Dean for so long, what the hell kind of power did the man have over him?

Before he knew it, Sam was thrusting his hips again, and pushing back against Dean's cock, moving with him, following the rhythm Dean set. There were tears on his cheeks, and he didn't know whether he was crying from the pleasure, from pain, from humiliation? He just couldn't understand any of this, and yet he was participating. Yeah it was his moans that where echoed by Dean's. His breathless gasps followed by deep exhales. His 'noes,' followed by 'please... please... please Dean.' His body wasn't his anymore, it was taken over by these powerful needs. "Harder," he pleaded, fucking into Dean's hand, fucking back against him, clenching around Dean's cock each time Dean angled his cock just right, hit that spot that sent Sam spiraling closer to release.

His body overheated, quivered. His breaths panted out. Suddenly, he was on fire. Turning his head, he reached back, one hand behind Dean's head, he dragged him close, begging for a kiss, that's what he needed... that's what was missing, what had kept him completely calm that night.

* * *

Dean had heard the whispered refusal, but he’d ignored it. Sam’s lips might have been saying ‘no’ but the young man’s body was screaming yes. So he didn’t stop forcing his cock into the boy’s tight clinging hole, even when he heard the soft whimpers of pain that Sam made. Only going slow enough that he knew he wouldn’t tear and injure the young man. He knew the boy would adjust to his size soon enough, after all, and even with the pain Sam didn’t refuse him. Not really.

The demon groaned in pleasure against the back of Sam’s neck when he was fully inside the beautiful young man. Sam’s body was gripping his cock like a vice, and felt so fucking good. Perhaps even better than that first night, tighter because Dean had barely prepared him, or maybe it was knowing just how much Sam wanted this. The boy accepting the pain and humiliation without complaint as Dean began to fuck him for everyone to watch.

Even though he could see the flush of humiliation that stained the boy’s cheeks, Sam didn’t stop him. The boy’s whispered no’s barely audible, though his moans of pleasure and the way Sam began to move with him very clear. Dean began to jerk the boy off again in counter point to the way his cock slid in and out of his ass, and when he heard the softly whispered ‘harder’ the demon smiled and gave the boy exactly what he wanted.

His cock moving like a piston in and out of the young man’s ass, the slap of his hips against Sam’s bare ass almost audible over the music, as he fucked the beautiful young man harder. As a reward, angling his hips a little more to make sure he hit Sam’s prostate with every deep penetrating thrust.

When Dean felt the young man’s fingers in his hair, he groaned and lifted his head, allowing Sam to bring their mouths together he moaned his pleasure into the boy’s mouth as they kissed. Almost a complete contrast to their dirty fucking, he kissed Sam slowly and lovingly. Their tongues twining together in the young man's mouth.

* * *

Sam's ragged breaths were taken in fits and starts as they kissed. He moaned into Dean's mouth, his tongue clinging to Dean's, sliding against it, caressing it. It was the strangest feeling, like he was being made love to or wooed, like this was all for him, like he wasn't being fucked within an inch of his life at the same time.

It was confusing. It was intoxicating... addicting, and Sam didn't want it to stop. He moved back and forth, taking Dean's cock deeper, knowing tomorrow might be a bitch but not caring. Right here, right now was all that mattered. He'd missed him. Maybe he hadn't known him long, but he'd definitely missed him, seeing his handsome face and that sometimes crooked smile. Basking in the feelings he generated. The way he made him feel, so alive and full of questions.

He didn't know how Dean did it, kept him on the very edge, had him needing to come, needing it so bad but striving for it, reaching for it. "Please... Dean oh God, please," he started to thrash, and pulled away from Dean's mouth. "Need." Groaning, he turned to the wall and bent down lower, instinctively knowing the invitation would get him there faster.

Lower lip gripped between his teeth, he had his hands against the wall, preventing his head from slamming into it as Dean fucked him harder, making him spiral out of control. He clenched his muscles around Dean's cock inside him, encouraging Dean to get there with him, and then his orgasm slammed into him so hard, Sam almost lost his balance. The force of his release sprayed his cum over Dean's hand and splattered the wall, and still he was moving, still he rode wave after wave of pleasure.

* * *

Sam kissed him like he was a drowning man and the demon was offering him his last breath, and Dean couldn’t deny how much that turned him on. He groaned his pleasure and approval into the young man’s mouth, letting the young man know exactly how he was affecting him. How much he was loving every slide of his cock deep into that beautiful tight body, how tightly the boy’s body gripped him. How much he loved the feel of Sam’s cock so hard and dripping as he pushed the young man closer and closer to ecstasy but not letting him find release.

Not yet...

But he would give the beautiful boy everything he wanted, everything he needed, even if San never would have asked for it had he not already been so far gone in lust. All he needed to do was ask... and the demon would give him anything...

When Sam broke their kiss almost too soon, leaving them both panting, and the young man bent over even further the spike of lust that went through the demon at the sight took his breath away. He did not deny the boy’s obvious invitation, thrusting harder and deeper into the tight willing body, stroking Sam’s dick faster. Not long now, for either of them.

All too soon he felt the young man’s body practically convulse in pleasure as Sam’s orgasm ripped through him, and the demon had to practically hold the boy up while he continued to fuck that gorgeous body. Sam’s body clenching around him so tightly through his pleasure making the demon moan loudly, and he held back his own pleasure until the young man was nearly spent before he finally allowed himself to come with one final deep thrust. Wrapping his arms around the young man’s waist and burying his face against Sam’s sweat dampened neck as his cock pulsed over and over, filling the beautiful boy up with his seed. 

* * *

"Mmm, Dean," Sam whispered leaning back against Dean, glad he was being held so tightly because he wasn't sure he could stand on his own. Instinct, or something, had him clenching and releasing around Dean's cock, milking him of the warm liquid filling him on the inside.

As they stayed like that for a few moments, Sam realized that all the tension, that wound up and standing on the edge feelings he'd been carrying around for days was gone. In its place was peace, and warmth, and Dean's scent, his wet lips on his neck. Even if they'd had dirty sex, in public, it felt like anything but that. It made Sam feel complete, and sane, and whole.

He felt Dean pull out of him and some liquid slid down his thigh. Feeling shaky and unsure what to do, he was glad Dean turned him around and kissed him, his tongue sweeping inside Sam's mouth. It was so gentle, so sweet, like he was being reassured. Wrapping his arms around Dean's shoulders, Sam kissed him back with everything he had, practically forcing Dean to extend the kiss until they both needed to breath.

A sound of protest escaped Sam's lips as Dean pulled away. He didn't know where Dean got the towel, but he was pulled away from the wall and Dean started to clean him up. He felt his cheeks burn, his lips parting as he let out a breath. Probably he should have been cleaning himself up and maybe if his mind hadn't been so fuzzy, he would have. Dean dropped down rubbed the towel up the insides off his legs, glancing up once.

It was like a tug on his soul, like the one he often felt when Dean first walked into a room, only different. This time it was as if he was tugged across the universe, into a dream. He was in bed, he knew that by the softness of the mattress under him. And Dean was bent over him. He was different, not as close shaven, and didn't smell exactly right. He was darker, like he'd been in the sun for long hours. His eyes were full of concern. It all changed when Sam pushed up and kissed him. Horror and disbelief was etched in Dean's expression, so strong, it made Sam's stomach lurch as shame washed over him.

Blinking, he brushed Dean's hands away from his zipper and did his jeans up himself. His heart was pounding, his hands shaking a little. But when he looked up, it was into cool jade green eyes. His Dean's. "I should have... myself," he mumbled, calm again. "Thanks." Leaning in, he brushed his mouth over Dean's lips and pulled back to look into his face. No disgust there, and no guilt for Sam. "No one was watching, right?" Lips quirking into a smile, he urged Dean to lie to him.

* * *

Dean couldn’t imagine heaven itself offering the bliss he felt at this moment. In fact, he knew it couldn’t. Never mind the fact that they were both men and the righteous winged bastards would frown on that alone. If Sam was Samuel... Dean had just fucked his baby brother for the second time. Such a dirty little word. Incest. This kind of pleasure had no place in heaven because it was born of sweet blissful sin. That was one of the reasons the demon loved Earth so much. Heaven, in his opinion, was highly overrated.

The demon nuzzled soft, barely there, kisses against the young man’s neck. Enjoying the feeling of Sam’s inner muscles milking him dry and his cock softening slowly inside of him. Only then did Dean gently pull out and ease Sam around to face him. He kissed the young man with infinite tenderness, smiling faintly as Sam held onto him so tightly, kissing him back almost desperately. As though they were the only two people in the world.

Dean suddenly felt quite jealous and possessive. The people downstairs who might have noticed what they’d been up to had gotten a spectacular show just now but this... this was for him alone. When the demon drew back, summoning a towel to him quickly and began to clean the young man gently, he made sure to keep himself between Sam and any who might be watching. Not really caring how he himself was still exposed as he started tugging the young man’s jeans back in place, but letting Sam do himself up as he wished. Dean cleaned himself off quickly and tucked himself away, buttoning up his own jeans as well.

The demon shook his head slightly when Sam muttered he should have cleaned himself off, but smiled when the young man leaned in for another quick kiss. Sam’s question certainly wasn’t a surprise, and Dean already had the lie ready on his tongue.

“I doubt anyone noticed.” He said reassuringly, though his tone certainly implied he didn’t care if anyone did. His arms slipped easily back around the young man’s waist, pulling Sam to him. “Feeling better, I hope? You’re not going to run away again, are you?” 

* * *

"Uh uh," putting his arms around Dean's shoulders, he leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Never gonna run away. Promise." His lips curved into a smile as he pulled back and looked into Dean's eyes. "Yeah feeling better, _Doctor_ Dean. Do you make house calls? I'd call you between every class for starters." He felt Dean swaying and only then realized they were dancing. It would always make him remember that first night, his birthday. Running his fingers through the short hair at the nape of Dean's neck, he wondered if maybe Dean had been his birthday present. Yeah, that's how he was going to think of it.

He rested his chin on Dean's shoulder, very aware that they weren't moving to the beat of the music, they were just swaying. Who knew sex could be so taxing? He felt like he'd gone on a very long run. Turning his face, he kissed Dean's throat. Then he sucked a little bit of Dean's skin into his mouth. A tiny little mark wouldn't be a bad thing to leave on him, so he'd remember this tomorrow. It was only fair since Dean had left his own mark, Sam could almost still feel him inside his body.

"Let's get a drink," he eventually said, pulling away from Dean. "I'm thirsty."

They sat close together on the couch and had a few drinks. Sam told Dean a little about school, and was very excited to report he was almost done with repairing and fixing up a motorcycle. "I picked it because it was a wreck. Everyone thought it was only good for scrap metal but I like fixing things, I kind of see what something could be like with a few changes here and there, you know? It's going to be one hot ride when I'm done, as hot as your Impala." He was sure that Dean would disagree with him there, and that had him smiling. He might not be good at a lot of things, but one thing he was good at was surprising people with the things he made.

He leaned forward and reached for his drink on the coffee table when a woman came up the stairs. She had a dark mane of hair, teased kind of wild, a tight red dress that clung to her curves and dangerously high heels. Attractive was an understatement, until she opened her mouth.

"Well now, aren't you just precious. Dean, where do you find your toys?" she asked, throwing her hair back as she met Dean's gaze. "He's not your usual type," she said strutting closer and lifting Sam's face with one finger. "But I approve."

Feeling her nail bite into his chin, Sam pulled away and gave her a look. "Don't. Please," he added as an afterthought, giving a questioning look to Dean. Who the hell was she?

"Have you told Dean your deepest wish? What would it be, I wonder. Riches? Fame? Dean?" She asked with a smile.

He didn't like her, but not wanting to be impolite to Dean's friends, he answered. "Actually, I --"

* * *

Dean couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips as a kind of… peace… settled over him. He wasn’t sure if it was the after sex glow, the warmth of the young man in his arms, or the whispered promise in his ear that caused it but it was nice. For once he decided not to analyze the feeling and simply enjoy it. Chuckling softly at the ‘Doctor Dean’ comment and holding the beautiful boy close to him, swaying to a music all their own in a slow peaceful dance. The rest of the world could go to hell as far as Dean was concerned.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Dancing slowly, enjoying soft touches and kisses, until finally Sam requested a drink. Dean nodded slightly, not about to deny Sam anything right now, then led the young man back over to the couches. He summoned a waitress that quickly came and took their orders, bringing their drinks up to them in minutes. Feeling generous, Dean gave her a healthy tip before sending her away again, wanting to be completely alone with the young man next to him.

The content smile never left his face as he listened to Sam speak. Most of the time when talking with mortals, Dean’s interest was only feigned, but with Sam he was genuinely curious about the young man’s life and interests. He listened intently, but also asked questions and prompted the young man for more details here and there during the conversation. Maybe he simply enjoyed hearing Sam’s voice, especially when he was excited about something. He sounded so much like Samuel…

That was when he felt it… the dark ripple announcing the presence of another demon close by and it was only with the greatest effort that Dean kept himself from suddenly frowning. There were not many demons that would dare come here. These were his hunting grounds after all, and it was a well known fact that Dean didn’t enjoy the companionship of other demons not to mention the competition. As the competition quickly, and permanently, found out.

Dean turned an icy glare to the demon bitch when she sauntered up to them, a glare that took on a decidedly dangerous edge when she dared to touch Sam and address him.

“Carmilla!” Dean said sharply, interrupting whatever the young man was about to say. His expression softened however, when he looked at Sam not wanting to alarm the boy as he reached into his pocket and took out his valet ticket and handed it to him.

“Sam. Will you have them bring the car up? I’ll be down in a minute.” Dean said, giving the boy a slight reassuring smile before he turned his eyes back to Carmilla and his expression hardened. 

* * *

Sam's face snapped toward Dean when he cut off his answer. Seeing Dean's anger was directed at the woman, he relaxed a little and accepted the ticket. Making his way around the woman, Sam walked slowly, his head turning to look back and not at all happy to leave Dean with that curvy bombshell. Putting one hand on the rail, he watched for as long as he could, more than aware that neither of the pair were saying a damned thing.

As soon as she felt the younger boy was out of sight, Carmilla gave a trill of laughter which she was sure would reach his ears. "Hello darling, tell me how much you've missed me," she said, running her hand down the side of Dean's neck and resting it on his shoulder. "Oh, don't be such a sour puss, you know he'll work ten times harder to please you now that he's seen me," she practically purred. "In fact, why don't the two of us put on a nice show for him. And if your pet is very good, I'll let him join us. I bet he bleeds pretty," she sucked the tip of her finger.

* * *

Dean was glad that Sam hadn’t questioned his abrupt dismissal and simply obeyed him. Though the young man certainly took his sweet time leaving. He knew he would have to explain to Sam later what this was all about, but he’d worry about that later. Right now he only cared about getting Sam away from Carmilla as quickly as possible. Dean’s glare did not waver, his eyes locked with Carmilla’s in an almost test of wills. He almost expected her to say something else before Sam had disappeared, but wisely she didn’t. She knew him too well by now.

Finally Sam was gone, though probably not completely out of earshot, at least there was no way he’d hear the details of their discussion over the loud music of the club. Dean didn’t relax however. In fact he only tensed more as Carmilla laughed and touched him, and he didn’t hesitate slapping her hand away from him with a scowl. She had no right to touch him anymore. His contract was over.

Dean remembered the first time he had seen the demon bitch, four hundred years ago. She’d been wearing a different meat suit then, of course, but she’d still been beautiful. Carmilla had always been quite picky about the physical form she possessed. She had come to him in his jail cell. He’d been arrested soon after his brother’s execution because he had tried to stop it and caused a ‘scene’. It had taken six men to hold him back while he watched his brother burn to death, but in the end he had slumped to the ground and they’d had to drag him away to jail. He hadn’t eaten or slept in a week when she’d finally come to him, offering him the deal. His soul in exchange for teaching him what he’d need to take revenge on those who’d murdered his brother, Samuel. It had been the easiest choice Dean had ever made.

Despite the fact that she had ‘helped’ him all those years ago, Dean certainly did not feel indebted to the demon bitch. Time passed more slowly in hell, and he’d spent thousands of years enduring her torment. He had grown into a powerful demon however, despite his relative ‘youth’, and his power at least matched hers. As he’d always made it clear he did not desire her company, it meant she could only be here on business... or to fuck with him. If she dared to lay a finger on Sam...

“My new ‘pet’ is none of your concern. Keep your fucking claws off him.” Dean all but growled, his eyes flashing black dangerously. “What do you want, Carmilla.” 

* * *

"Tsk tsk, why all the impatience? Surely its not over that boy, you just fucked him. I have to tell you, I'll be keeping that image in my heart for a long, long time." Smirking, she gave him a little space. "I came to check on you. I know, you didn't think I cared," she said, waving her hand.

"There were reports that you've been extra... how shall I put it? Zealous in dispatching humans to their death lately, but I haven't seen an equivalent rise in the number of contracts you've obtained. That boy, what did you say his name is?" Her eyes flashed with malevolence. "He was about to make a wish. You ruined it... you owe me an extra one, or... I could go down and talk to him now."

Anticipating a little violence, she disappeared and reappeared a bit farther. "Don't tell me you really are that interested in him. Haven't I taught you better? You care for anything in this world and it turns into your Achilles heel. Take my advice. If you're just enjoying him, enjoy him to death. If it's more, then take his soul. He'll come back to you. Maybe."

Backing up to the stairs, she blocked Dean's way. "How about a dance lover, one for old times."

* * *

The Impala had been brought and parked up against the curb. Sam paced restlessly, looking at the entrance to the club and wondering how angry Dean would be with him if he walked inside to go get him. Maybe he'd wanted a few moments with that woman. Maybe he'd wanted to... If she was his ex or... He ran his hand through his hair as he thought of all the other guys and girls that had been hanging onto Dean before he'd gotten there. Maybe Carmilla had been invited to that party too.

His stomach twisted. For some reason, he saw her as a bigger threat than all the others. Of course, before he saw her, he'd wondered how far down the line he was on Dean's list of fun dates. Dates? Fucks? He didn't even know. He didn't even know what Dean was to him, just that he was important. That he needed him, as sappy and stupid as that sounded, he needed him if he wasn't going to go around the bend.

* * *

“I know you don’t care.” Dean snapped. Giving Carmilla a glare that would have had grown men pissing in their pants, though he knew it had little effect on her.

She had long grown used to his ‘rudeness’ as she called it. Though she hadn’t quite gotten the hint yet and learned to leave him be. He knew she did it on purpose, his anger amused her far too much. If he behaved indifferently she probably would not have half as much interest in him as she did. Hell, who was he kidding? She would always have an interest in him whether he liked it or not. She’d always said he was one of her ‘favorites’.

He did not like that she had seen him with Sam, for more than one reason. For one, he didn’t like that he had been apparently so distracted by Sam that he hadn’t noticed her presence long before now. Unfortunately she was right. Dean had stepped on quite a few toes in his rise to power. Demons had long memories and it was certainly in their nature to hold a grudge.

There were plenty that would see Sam as a weakness and exploit it. Carmilla was one of them. The only reason why Dean had gotten as far as he had was because he hadn’t had any weaknesses…

Dean’s eyes narrowed and the growl that left his lips certainly wasn’t human when she pointed out that he now owed her a soul for letting Sam ‘get away’. He could point out that he contracted more than his share of souls, he was one of the best, but instead he bit his tongue. If he argued he risked her turning her attention back towards Sam and if one ‘extra’ soul would make her forget about the boy it was a small price to pay.

It was a little satisfying at least that she’d made sure to stay out of ‘arms reach’ when she made her demand.

“We’re done.” He said with finality, turning towards the stairs but was forced to stop when she blocked his path. Dean was very tempted to shove her down the stairs, but since they were still in the presence of an audience appearances must be maintained.

“Don’t come here again.” He said, making his answer quite clear with a well aimed mental push that would only look like he was shoving her out of his way. With that, he made his way quickly down the stairs and outside to where Sam was waiting for him. Thankfully the Impala was ready and waiting as well.

“Get in.” Dean told the young man as he made his way around to the driver’s side and got in. He didn’t even tip the valet attendant. 

* * *

Sam blinked at the sharp order. He started for the passenger seat, then stopped and pulled his wallet out. The hopeful look on the valet's face, as he fished his money out, was hard to miss. So was the cool stare of disbelief when he gave the guy two bucks. "I'm... ah..." without looking at the door handle, Sam pulled it open and got it.

The instant he had the door closed, Dean gunned the car and they took off. He stole a glance at Dean and noticed how hard his expression was, like he was furious. Running his hands up and down his jean clad thighs, he looked out the window. Immediately, he realized they were going to Dean's place, which was very close.

He cleared his throat. "I... If I'm sleeping over," and he wasn't sure now about anything. "I need to get some stuff, unless I'm not, then it's okay." Licking his lips, he looked over at Dean nervously. "I mean okay either way."

* * *

Dean glanced over at Sam sitting in the passenger side of the car as though he just remembered that he was there. Which wasn’t true of course. He just hadn’t been thinking how his demeanor must be affecting the young man. It was obvious by Sam’s tone that he was boy nervous, however, so Dean forced his expression to soften and to stop trying to strangle the steering wheel.

“Sorry.” Dean apologized softly, giving the young man a slight reassuring smile. “I didn’t know she was going to show up tonight. We don’t exactly get along.”

He hoped the young man would take the explanation as is and leave it alone. Though if Sam was anything like Samuel, Dean knew he probably wouldn’t get off that easily, even if Sam did let it go tonight.

“I would like it if you stayed.” Dean replied sincerely. For a moment considering just going straight home, he certainly already owned everything the boy might need to take care of personal hygiene. But if it would make Sam feel more relaxed in his home having his own things... Thinking for a moment Dean drove past his building to a 24 hour drug store parking lot. He gave the young man a grin as he shut off the engine.

“Get anything you want. I mean anything.” 

* * *

There was a story there, and ' we don't exactly get along' didn't really tell it. For now, Sam accepted the apology and probably would have, no matter what it had been. It wasn't as if Dean had known he'd show up tonight anyway. But there was history with that woman, Carmilla. She made Sam feel insignificant next to her and if she went for Dean, the way she seemed to be, Sam had the feeling he'd lose hands down.

He was real glad Dean answered him quickly about where he wanted him to stay. He'd felt awkward asking the question to begin with but he'd needed to know so that he could get his things if necessary.

When they pulled up at the drugstore, Sam looked over at Dean. He couldn't help giving an answering smile, but he shook his head. "Dean, I need my lap top and books. I need to turn something in by noon. I could leave early in the morning," he offered, but had a feeling Dean wasn't an early riser and that he wouldn't want him slipping out early again. "Or you could come see my room, you know, in case you do decide to make house calls," he grinned. "Housing is about fifteen minutes from here, we'll hurry."

* * *

Dean raised an eyebrow at the young man when Sam clarified what he needed. Toiletries Dean could actually understand, in a way, and it wouldn’t be a bad thing for Sam to have his own toothbrush among other things to use when he slept over. Which would be often, if Dean had anything to say about it. But books and laptop?

“You’re planning on coming over to my apartment to do homework?” Dean asked, a note of disbelief coloring his words for a moment, before he couldn’t help but laugh. He gave Sam a teasing grin even as he pulled back out of the parking space and started to drive towards the college campus.

“Well, not quite the activity I had in mind, but if you can still think afterwards...” He gave the young man a playful wink and grinned.

Actually, Dean didn’t plan on letting the boy get any rest tonight, much less have time to finish his homework. But since he didn’t want Sam to get it into his head that he had to leave early in the morning again, and if it would make Sam feel better to have them, it wasn’t any trouble. Besides, he wanted to see where Sam lived. He was sure he could convince the young man to play hookie from school tomorrow with little trouble.

Besides the fact that Dean wanted to make up for several days lost when Sam had run away from him, he didn’t want to leave the boy alone when Carmilla was obviously sniffing around. Maybe while Sam was gathering his things Dean could discretely put up some wards that would alert him if any other demons came within miles of the young man.

He would need to put his mark on the boy soon. A clear sign to any demon to keep their hands off his property or pay the price. Unfortunately that would have to wait until he fully gained Sam’s trust. He could not reveal his true nature to the boy too soon. Dean did not want Sam to fear him. 

* * *

The look Dean threw him had Sam laughing. He shook his head, "You'd be surprised how good I am at multi-tasking." As they headed for UCLA, he stole a glance at Dean. The guy probably did not get that Sam liked school, that he actually did study quite a lot. Carmilla's words came back to haunt him. He wasn't Dean's 'usual' type. Yeah, he'd bet his ass he wasn't, he thought, unable to imagine any of his other 'friends' cracking the books.

When Dean looked over at him, he gave the guy a smile. He might not be the type Dean usually hung with, but he was  
hanging with him now. Maybe he needed a change, the same way Sam guessed he'd needed a change. It wasn't like Dean was exactly the sort of guy he socialized with either. Maybe that's what made it exciting.

As the approached the school, he gave directions to the housing and they parked near the building. He had expected Dean to say he'd wait in the car but was pleased when the guy came out, and walked with him. Their shoulders bumped and he felt Dean's arm touch his back just as they passed some students. No, not chance of them mistaking the situation. Realizing he didn't care, he put his own arm behind Dean, pushing his hand into the guy's back pocket.

Just then, a few people came out of the lobby, including Drew who immediately spotted him. His mouth dropped open, but unfortunately, not for long enough. "I guess this means I don't have to fix you up with dates anymore," he blurted.

Sam gave him a dark look. "Dean, this is my _ex_ friend Drew, also known as the school trouble maker and--"

"And the guy who dragged your boring ass to Dante's." Drew gave Dean a nod. "Hey. I was starting to think our boy here had dreamed you up cause...'nothing compares... nothing compares to you..." he started to sing until Sam kicked him.

"Come on, Dean," Sam practically pushed Dean around Drew and toward the lobby.

* * *

Dean could tell that the young man was a little surprised he’d decided to walk up with him to his dorm room, but from Sam’s expression it was a pleasant surprise. The young man definitely seemed far more relaxed here than at Dante’s, much more in his element, and Dean couldn’t resist testing his boundaries a little. Slipping his arm around the younger man’s back and letting his hand come to rest low on Sam’s hip. About as possessive and intimate a gesture that could be made without being labeled ‘obscene’.

Sam had said it did not matter to him that he as a man, but Dean couldn’t help wondering if the boy would feel differently if Sam’s ‘friends’ and others he’d have to interact with on a daily basis were to see them together. Would Sam accept his touch if it meant being possibly ridiculed by his friends? Would Sam want him to pretend he was merely a friend, nothing more, and push his hand away?

He had his answer when Sam did not even hesitate in putting his own arm around him, going so far as to slide his hand into one of his pockets over his ass. Dean glanced over at the young man and smiled warmly. He was tempted to pull Sam even closer and kiss him right there, but they were interrupted by the appearance of one of the young man’s friends.

Dean couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the first comment that spilled from the other man’s mouth, and barely resisting giving him a death glare. If he tugged Sam a little bit closer to him in response it was unconscious. No, Sam certainly wouldn’t need to be ‘set up on dates’ anymore if Dean had any say in the matter. Which he did, since he did not share. Ever.

The demon reminded himself to be polite, giving the other young man a nod of greeting when Sam introduced them. Thoughts on what it would be like to disembowel the other man ceasing when Drew revealed he was the one to bring Sam to Dante’s that first night. Well, even if the young man was annoying, if not for him Dean might never have met Sam so... he would tolerate him. For now.

Dean couldn’t help but smirk at the swift kick Sam gave the other young man, and certainly didn’t protest as Sam thankfully dragged him away from his friend. 

* * *

Once they were inside the lobby, Sam let out a breath and stole a look at Dean. He'd been afraid Dean would ask Drew questions, and Drew would be more than happy to share, after exaggerating like Drew always did. "I've got... weird friends," he muttered, still a little embarrassed.

"So, there's a study hall in here," he pointed to a door. "But I'm never in there. I like the old library, it's quiet there and you can really study." The study hall in the dorms was more for socializing, or so the residents believed. They'd walked about half way down the hall when he stopped. "And this is..."

A couple of girls came out of the room across from his. "Hi Sam."

"Hey," he grinned, noticing how they were checking Dean out. He also noticed how they turned back after they walked away. Laughing under his breath, he pushed the door open. "My ah... place," he turned the light on and let Dean inside. The room was large enough for him and he wasn't sharing it like many other students did. He kept it quite neat although many surfaces were taken up by paper, designs and books. He also had some models of various machinery he was putting together to understand how they worked and maybe come up with his own ideas.

"You can sit on the bed or at the desk, I'll be quick," he said, hitting the blinking message light on the answering machine and moving around the room to grab clothes and put them into his duffel. There was a message about a class being canceled, and another one from a friend asking if he wanted to go to a football game. Then his dad's second cousin's voice started to come over the speaker and he froze while folding a shirt.

"How many times do I have to call, Sam? You better knock this shit off and call me back or get the damned papers to me. I'm your only family, don't fuck it up." There was a brief silence, and the voice softened. "Sorry, I'm just frustrated. You know I want to do the right thing, for you, John would expect me to. Call me, alright?"

That was the last message. Sam silently finished packing and walked into the small bathroom to get his toiletries. When he came out, he dropped them into the bag and went to unplug his lap top.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle softly at Sam’s muttering about his friends. Yes, he could see that. But at least Drew seemed safe enough at first glance. As long as he didn’t try to get in the way between him and Sam. But sooner or later Dean would take the boy away from all of this, so it really didn’t matter. Dean’s ‘friends’ on the other hand... that could be a problem.

He was still very angry about the way Carmilla had shown up tonight. He almost didn’t want to believe it was a coincidence, that she had shown up when she had purposefully to catch him and Sam together. But since Dean hadn’t even known Sam would be coming to the club tonight, it probably was just coincidence. Either that... or she had been watching him or Sam for much longer than Dean wanted to think about.

Carmilla wasn’t even his biggest worry. She might be a bitch and still treated him as though he belonged to her, but she was still relatively harmless. There were plenty of other demons that would gladly take advantage of his new Achilles Heel. He would have to make a contract with the boy soon. Once a human’s soul was marked by a demon, no other demon could touch it. The stealing of souls was strictly forbidden and any demon who tried would be put to death by his former brethren.

But it had to be the right contract. Where Sam’s soul would belong to him for all eternity, and would never see the fires of hell. Dean would not let his brother’s precious soul be tarnished that way... if Sam was his Samuel. Dean was almost certain now, but... Sam had mentioned dreams. About him. He would have to ask the young man questions about those dreams soon. Could they be memories belonging to Samuel?

Dean followed Sam closely through the dorm, nodding every once in a while as the young man showed him around. The demon couldn’t help but grin a little at the two young women checking him out as they were leaving their room. Dean wasn’t interested, but he threw a charming smile and wink to the two girls as they were walking away anyway. Maybe the girls would ask Sam about him later, if he was available, and Sam would get jealous.

He followed Sam into his room, and somehow it looked exactly as Dean thought it would. A decent sized room, painted in neutral colors. Books and papers stacked on every available surface, but while cluttered the room was obviously clean. Even the bed was made. Dean wandered towards the desk, where some gadgets and obvious design sketches were stacked and felt a twist in his heart as he looked at them.

_“Bet you can’t guess what this is.”_ Samuel would always say with amusement in his eyes as his brother showed him his drawing for his latest invention. No, Dean never could... and he couldn’t now either. Samuel’s drawings had confused him then, and technology had become far more advanced in the recent century. Dean had even less understanding of what the designs could be for now, but he had no doubt they were brilliant. Just like Samuel had been...

Dean was pulled out of his musings of the past by the sound of an angry voice coming from the answering machine and the demon frowned as he looked at Sam. The boy was obviously upset by the message, if his body language was any indication. A swell of protective anger flashed through him and Dean’s eyes flashed dark for a moment before he schooled his features.

“What was that about?” The demon asked as casually as possible when Sam came out of the bathroom. He didn’t want to upset Sam further, but he wanted to know what was going on and if it was anything Dean needed to... take care of. 

* * *

"Nothing." Sam stood up and started to wind the cord, a frown marring his features. He finished and put it into his messenger bag, then closed up the lap top to put it away too. He felt Dean's gaze, but when he looked over at him, Dean was just inspecting one of his models.

He let out a sigh. "My parents... they died last year." He swore he wasn't going to get all teary about it and forced himself to push away his emotions. "There's the house and some money that's invested and insurance..." Blowing out a breath, he looked up. "That was my dad's cousin. I've only seen him a couple times he... he looks a lot like my dad. I guess he thinks he needs to be taking care of me or something, I dunno. He wants me to sign stuff over but... Just doesn't feel right, and I hate talking about _things_ , you know? Money, when I'd do _anything_ to get them back, but he makes me feel like I'm putting money over family."

Zipping the bag up, he pulled it over his shoulder, the got his duffel. Moving a couple books from his bag pack into the duffel, he hefted that over his shoulder as well. "I guess I just have to man up and tell him again." Giving a mirthless smile, he walked to the door and opened it.

* * *

Nothing huh? Well, it most certainly wasn’t nothing, but if Sam didn’t want to talk about it with him, then Dean wouldn’t push.

Maybe Sam didn’t trust him enough to talk to him about it, and he couldn’t even really blame the boy. After all, they’d only spent one night together, and a handful of hours beyond that. Just because Samuel had told him everything, had trusted him completely, didn’t mean Sam would. Though Dean hoped eventually Sam would...

Dean turned back to Sam’s desk, carefully picking up one of the models and started to look it over. He had absolutely no idea what it was supposed to be for. It wasn’t long before he felt Sam’s eyes on him and then heard the young man sigh. When the young man finally began speaking, Dean set down the model carefully and turned to face Sam but Sam wasn’t looking at him anymore.

Yes, he remembered Sam saying that his parents were dead. That he had no family, and Dean remembered thinking what good news that was. How no one would miss the boy if he suddenly vanished off the face of the earth. Obviously, Sam did have some family even if they were only distant relatives. Didn’t seem like Sam thought of the man as family, and the demon could see why.

It certainly didn’t sound like the man was interested in taking care of Sam, more like trying to take care of himself and line his pockets with the money that rightfully belonged to Sam. Dean pushed down his anger at the man, not wanting Sam to notice it and maybe get the wrong idea. Humans. It was really no wonder that some souls became demons so quickly in hell. Well, Carmilla wanted a soul...

Dean walked over to the young man and gently grabbed Sam’s wrist before he could escape out the door, giving the boy a reassuring smile as he pulled him close and kissed him softly.

“Hey, if it doesn’t feel right, then don’t do it. Don’t let anyone push you into anything you don’t want. Not even family. I’m sure it will all work out.” Dean said, kissing Sam again, and then taking one of the young man’s bags from him. “Alright, lets go. You need to relax and I’ve got just the thing for it.” 

* * *

Sam was surprised at the sudden tug but willingly entered Dean's embrace, leaning against him as strong arms wrapped around him and made him feel protected. The soft kiss had Sam wanting more, wanting to forget about the call. He listened to Dean's advice and nodded, "Yeah, it'll work--" then Dean was kissing him again, and had him smiling by the time he took one of the bags off his shoulder. "Relax... right... except when you kiss me, I'm thinking of everything _but_ relaxing."  


  
Before he could see Dean's reaction, Sam twisted the lock on the door and slipped out of the room. They headed down the hall, making room for some students to pass. Sam was very aware of all the looks they were earning, plus the fact that he was carrying a duffel probably said he was off for some overnight fun. He was a little self conscious maybe, but that was about it.

When they reached the car, Dean opened the trunk and Sam tossed his bag inside. He took a second look at the inside of the trunk, then pulled back so Dean shut it. "Bet you'll be glad when you don't have to drive me around," he grinned. Dean hadn't complained, and he'd offered more than once. Sam had the feeling that Dean was a hard man to push around. If he didn't want to do something, he'd probably say it straight out. So he had to trust that he hadn't put Dean too far out of the way. "My bike. Can't wait for you to see all the modifications and customization I made. Or... maybe not," he gave a rueful smile. "Guess it might not be that exciting for others."

As Dean walked around, Sam did the same and got into the car, pulling the door shut. They talked a little about music. Sam stole a glance at Dean, then admitted he'd searched for and downloaded several versions of the song Dean had sung to him at the restaurant, on their date. "Something about it... I can't get it out of my mind. And no, it's not only because you sang it to me," he added, catching the smug grin on Dean's face and feeling his cheeks warm up. "That's just... part of it." He shrugged, it was hard to explain that feeling of de ja vu, and he wasn't about to try, he'd only make an ass of himself. But he did hope Dean would sing to him again some time. The thought gave him nice warm feelings in his stomach.

When they reached Dean's hi-rise, and turned the car over to the valet, Sam saw a dark haired woman. She reminded him of Carmilla and had him thinking about her on the way up in the elevator. He kept telling himself that Dean had acted like he didn't like her or wasn't pleased to see her, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she had been acting like she owned him. Like she was more to him than his usual one night stands. _Plural_. Okay, that had been a bit bitchy. But fair. Dean had definitely been ready to get busy with all the people he had up there on that balcony before Sam got there. It made Sam wonder why Dean hadn't tried to convince him to try out some sort of multiple partners deal. Because he knew that the answer would be no, maybe?

Looking guiltily at Dean, he smiled and hoped to hell his thoughts were not reflected in his eyes. They stepped out, and walked down the hall over plush carpets. They couldn't have lived in more different surroundings, Sam thought as he watched Dean open the large door. Memories of that night, the night he'd had sex for the first time, washed over him as he stepped inside. He swallowed, then blinked. "What ... you redecorated," he said, dropping the duffel bag near the bedroom door. "It's ah, nice." And yeah, now that he was here, he was feeling a little awkward.

* * *

Dean was glad to be home. With Sam. It had been interesting to see the young man in his element, meeting his ‘friends’, seeing the things that the boy had made… so much like Samuel… but this was where Sam really belonged. With him. In his bed. In his life.

Certainly the young man seemed a little out of place now, but that would pass. Dean imagined buying Sam things. Things like clothes, food, things for the shower and bath, and movies that interested the young man. He imagined all of Sam’s gadgets scattered about here and there amongst his fine art, fucking the boy to perfect exhaustion every night, and waking up every morning with Sam in his arms and it made the demon smile.

Soon, he promised himself.

“Yeah, thought it was time for a little change. Hope you like it.” He replied as he took off his jacket and threw it casually over the back of a chair. His words could have many meanings and he’d leave it up to same to decipher them. Dean glanced over at the young man standing a little awkwardly in his living room and chuckled softly.

“Don’t look so nervous, I’m not going to ravish you… yet.” The demon teased the young man, giving Sam a little wink. Dean started for his bedroom and casually waved towards his bar. “Make yourself at home. Feel free to make yourself a drink if you want.”

With that, Dean left the young man to wander and headed through his bedroom to his large adjoining bathroom. Dean was still grinning to himself as he started filling up the large Jacuzzi tub. He had promised Sam he’d help him relax, after all. 

* * *

  
_Hope you like it_... it was a thing people said, there was no deeper meaning. Besides, it wasn't as if Dean would take decorating tips from him. Sam's room was positively plain when compared to this place, and even his room at home..." He pushed out all thoughts of home, that would only lead to bad places, and he was feeling too good to go there tonight.

Course the next thing Dean said had Sam's gaze flying towards him, a ready smile formed when he saw Dean's wink. "Ah... I think the ravishing happened already, no... I'm pretty sure it did," he add, knowing every movement of his body affirmed what had happened. "M'kay, you want something?" Since Dean had already disappeared into his bedroom, Sam walked to the bar and started poking around.

He found a cabinet that was cool on the inside and had a temperature gauge. There were bottles of wine in it, and he pulled out a bottle of red wine. There was a lot of hard liquor too, but he didn't trust himself to mix any drinks other than maybe a Malibu coke, which was probably way too unsophisticated for Dean anyway. As he uncorked the bottle and hoped to hell he hadn't chosen one that cost a fortune, his gaze slid to the bedroom door.

Where had he gone? To slip into something more comfortable? Please don't have one of those red silk robes like Howard Hughes, please... Looking up, behind him, he grabbed two wine glasses and set them on the bar. He'd just finished pouring them when he heard the door open and looked over to see Dean padding over barefooted, shirtless and wearing those black pajama bottoms that had captured his imagination the first time he'd seen them on Dean.

Sucking in his breath, he licked his lips and couldn't help the way his eyes traveled down and up Dean's body, or the hunger in his eyes. Hunger, that really shouldn't be there. "You look..." His heart skipped a beat and gave him time to wonder if he sounded like an idiot, but the look on Dean's face was reassuring. "Amazing in those." Heat flooded his cheeks but he walked over anyway, and put his arms around Dean. "Anytime you wear them, I think you're the one who should be worried about being ravished." Quickly slanting his mouth across Dean's, he didn't give himself time to worry what the other man would think. Instead, he kissed him, dipping his tongue inside Dean's mouth and seeking Dean's as he pressed closer, his hand moving over the man's bare chest.

* * *

Based on Sam’s reaction when he’d walked into the room, practically eye fucking him, Dean was glad that he’d decided to change before returning to the young man. Dean smiled at the way Sam couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of him, not even pretending that he didn’t notice, as the other man’s gaze traveled over his entire body like caress. It was really adorable how the young man blushed even when Sam didn’t bother to hide his appreciation.

When Sam came towards him, stepping boldly into his personal space, Dean allowed his hands to settle comfortably on the other man’s waist. An amused look and a warm chuckle leaving his lips from Sam’s words before his lips were otherwise occupied, parting to allow the younger man’s tongue into his mouth.

The demon made a definite sound of approval at the feeling of Sam’s fingers moving across his chest. When their lips finally parted and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he spoke.

“Anytime I wear them, hmm?” Dean paused and lifted an eyebrow slightly, recalling the only other time he’d worn these particular pajamas in front of the young man. “I’ll have to make sure to wear them more often then.”

As much as Dean would have loved to strip Sam down and take him right here, he had a plan in mind so after brushing his lips once more over the young man’s the demon finally pulled away with a smile. Walking over to the two wine glasses on the bar Sam had poured, Dean took them both and handed one to Sam. He took a sip of his own and made an approving sound, his tongue flicking out briefly across his lips when he lowered the glass.

“Good choice.” Dean commented with a slight nod then picked up the bottle of wine. “I think we’ll be wanting more of this. Follow me.”

Again not waiting for Sam to reply, Dean headed back through his bedroom into the large master bathroom. The lights in the bathroom were off, but that didn’t matter because Dean had lit several lightly scented candles and set them all around the bathroom to give it a warm glow. The large Jacuzzi, more than big enough for the both of them, was full of steaming hot water which he’d added soothing bath salts and oils to and was already bubbling merrily with the jets on low. There was soft music playing, mostly instrumental, nothing that would be too girly or romantic but giving a nice atmosphere all the same.

Dean set down the bottle of wine on the side of the tub, then finished off his glass before setting it down beside the bottle before turning to Sam with a small grin. He was eager to see the young man’s reaction. 

* * *

Sam's lips curved into a smile when Dean said he's have to wear the silk black pants more often. "You do that, Dean," he answered, following Dean to the bar. Dean's compliment on his wine choice had him rolling his eyes. "I'll bet I'd have had to search for hours to find something that was a 'bad choice' in there." The sight of Dean's tongue darting out to wipe lips clean of the wine made his heart do a wild tumble. Dude... just a tongue, he told himself, grabbing the wine glass and taking a drink and turned to watch Dean head back to the bedroom with the bottle and class.

"Are we... ah, watching t.v. in bed?" he asked. He liked the idea a lot. Taking one more sip, he headed after Dean but found the bedroom empty. The bathroom door was open and there was music. Now real curious, he walked in and immediately realized they were going to get into the hot tub. "Even better, much much better idea," he said, his gaze flicking to the candles. His hand went to the door frame, steadied him as the blood drained from his face.

_Candles. Just candles. Don't be a freak, don't be a fucking freak._

He took a few breaths, drained the wine, then walked the rest of the way into the bathroom. It took iron will, but he forced himself to ignore the flickering flames and focused on Dean's handsome face. "You know this means you'll have to take those off," he nodded toward the pants. "Actually, can I take them off for you?" Nervous, he licked his lips and reminded himself that if he'd let Dean fuck him in front of a room full of strangers, it would be idiotic to start feeling shy now.

He set his empty glass next to Dean's then got up again and put his hand at the other man's hips, sliding the silky material down do his thighs. "You're commando," he cleared his throat and slowly peeled the pants down lower, his fingers sliding over Dean's muscular legs. He let go of the material and it pooled at Dean's feet. "I ah... I think I could get used to this view too." He was very aware of Dean's thick cock but managed to keep keep his eyes locked onto Dean's.

* * *

Dean didn’t fail to noticed the younger man’s gut reaction of fear when Sam had entered the bathroom. It was brief, and another might have missed it, but Dean was observant and if there was one thing he knew it was fear. Not just any fear, but the fear one only felt when their life was in danger. The demon certainly saw it enough in the eyes of his victims, and that’s what he saw in Sam’s. How for a moment panic filled those beautiful eyes and it seemed the boy might just run back out of the room.

Sam composed himself quickly however, though he still looked a little nervous, Dean decided to pretend he didn’t notice. Though the demon couldn’t help but be curious how the romantic setting he’d prepared had caused such a reaction. If Sam knew what he was… that was one thing. But somehow he knew it wasn’t him that Sam was afraid of.

Dean smiled at the young man when Sam offered to help him take off his pajama bottoms, and gave a slight nod as the boy stepped close to him and carefully slid them down. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the young man’s surprise that he was ‘commando’.

“Maybe I’ll need to dress like this more often too then.” Dean joked a little at Sam’s compliment, allowing his hands to mirror the young man’s touch on his hips. Tugging Sam a little closer Dean leaned in for a kiss, hoping to erase any lingering nervousness in the young man as he licked past his lips and allowed his tongue to play slowly in his mouth.

“I think you’re wearing too much.” Dean whispered against Sam’s lips as his hands moved up underneath the young man’s shirt, carefully tracing the muscular back. 

* * *

Mouth already curved into a smile at Dean's joke, Sam readily parted his lips wider to allow Dean's tongue inside. Whether Dean realized it or not, his kisses were Sam's addiction. It was what he craved most, what he dreamed about and what he needed all too often when Dean was close. Hell, he thought he could take anything, any pain, any humiliation Dean doled out, so long as there was kissing involved. There was no other way he'd have let Dean take him in front of all those people, no way. The man knew how to use his tongue and his mouth, knew how to slowly drive Sam nuts, like he was right now with slow strokes, weaving his tongue and out of Sam's mouth. "Mmm," he moaned softly, arching toward Dean as he felt Dean search under his shirt.

"Me too," Sam agreed softly when he was allowed a moment to breathe. He started to pull his own shirt up over his head, his stomach tensing as he felt Dean's warm palms moving up his back and sides, like he was making slow love to him. Dropping it onto the table next to the wall, he closed his arms around Dean, exploring his body in the same way. His hands moved up Dean's firm thighs, to his hips and his sides, his thumbs running over perfectly chiseled abs. Swallowing, he tilted his head back slightly and meeting Dean's eyes, he dared to move his hands over Dean's ass. His touches were light, long smooth strokes carefully exploring every inch, every curve of Dean's tight buttocks. When Dean's muscles clenched under his palms, Sam's breath caught in his throat, his fingers tightening reflexively as he cupped Dean's ass. The electric thrill that through him, from his palms up along his arm sent his blood surging to his cock.

Dazed, his head swam with need. "Kiss me Dean, kiss me again," he begged, swaying closer to him, lifting his mouth up to give Dean access and whispering, "yes," as their lips met once again. He moved his mouth back and forth across Dean's, his tongue tangling and playing with Dean's. His temperature was going up by the second, and Dean's hands tugging at the waistband of his jeans drew a groan from him. He heard his button pop open, and the sound of the zipper sliding echoed around them.

His heart beat faster and faster against his chest as he felt his jeans slide down his hips and his abs pressed against Dean's, hot flesh against hot flesh. Moaning, he raised his arms and put them around Dean's shoulders, pulling Dean closer so there was hardly any room between them. His cock was straining against his jeans and Sam just wanted them off, wanted to be completely naked and in Dean's arms, wanted to be in the water and sliding against his lover. Torn between staying like this, entwined with Dean and kissing, and pulling away to get rid of his jeans, an almost desperate plea broke from his lips.

* * *

Dean followed Sam’s every movement with rapt interest as the young man stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside. The flimsy material already forgotten as it left the other man’s fingers, his eyes feasted on the expanse of flawless lightly tanned skin and toned muscles that made up the young man’s chest. Beautiful. Perfect. His…

The demon’s fingers continued to lightly trace over what was his, a signature of ownership that he would one day make permanent. Caressing up the newly exposed skin to tweak the young man’s nipples into hard nubs and smiling at the shiver of pleasure that went through Sam. He made a small groan of approval at the way Sam’s fingers explored his own body, caressing and cupping his ass.

“Anything you want… anything…” Dean’s breath ghosted against the young man’s lips before he brought their mouths together again. His hands moving down again as their tongues danced like the flickering flames all around them, hot enough to burn. His fingers slid under the waistband of the young man’s jeans, caressing the soft skin of his hips as they moved to the front. Dean made quick work of the button and zipper and he could already feel how hard, how hot, Sam was. The young man’s cock begged to be touched as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and eased them carefully down his thighs.

“Shhh… we have all night, no need to rush…” The demon whispered soothingly against the beautiful boy’s lips even as Sam pressed their bodies close, practically clinging to him as a needy pleading sound broke from his throat. Dean knew there was only one thing that would truly sooth that fire. That need.

Dean kissed along Sam’s jaw and neck, moving lower along is chest as he slowly dropped to his knees, easing the younger man’s jeans and underwear as he went. He lapped and nipped briefly at the young man’s nipples, wanting to linger but knowing a greater prize awaited him as his tongue traced down the furrows of Sam’s chiseled stomach and belly button. Sam’s cock sprang flushed, hot, and hard as he freed the young man from his jeans, pushing them down enough so Sam could step out of them.

Sam’s cock inches from his mouth, Dean looked up at the young man, his hands sliding back up the now bare thighs.

“So beautiful…” The demon whispered awe that wasn’t even faked clear in his voice as he leaned in to lap at the head of his lover’s dick. His tongue circling around the flushed tip, flicking the sensitive slit, and rubbing Sam’s cock obscenely over his lips. Dean’s eyes never leaving the young man’s as he slowly took Sam’s length into his mouth. 

* * *

Sam arched back as Dean kissed his way down his throat and chest, his gut clenching when Dean dropped down to his knees in front of him. He put his hand on Dean's shoulder and stepped out of his jeans, his face flushing at the sight of his cock angling so tellingly toward Dean. His eyes almost closed at the sensations running through him as Dean's hands moved up his thighs.

Beautiful? No. What was beautiful was Dean's mouth, moving closer, making him hope and anticipate, making him burn with need. Dean didn't make him wait long, and for that, Sam was grateful. The first time Dean's tongue swept over his cock, Sam thought his knees were going to buckle. He gripped Dean's shoulders, this time with both hands, watching his lover's tongue and mouth work him, just as intently as he knew he was being watched by Dean.

It felt so good, so hot. Sam tried to learn from it, wanting to be able to return the favor, but he couldn't concentrate and the lesson was lost on him. All he knew was that he was on fire, and that he needed more, especially when Dean kept his mouth closed and dragged Sam's cock back and forth across it. "Oh God... I," his body spoke for him, his hips thrusting and nudging his cock against Dean's mouth, wanting in. "Dean..."

And then Dean was sucking hims in, and the sight of his cock disappearing into Dean's mouth had Sam tied up in knots. "Fuck." He couldn't help himself, he just couldn't, so he didn't try. Instead, he started to thrust into the silky wet heat of Dean's mouth, small movements that had his cock rubbing more firmly against Dean's tongue and the roof of his mouth, getting him the friction he so badly needed. But when Dean hollowed his cheeks in as Sam pulled back, the pleasure that speared through is body had Sam crying out.

Moving one of his hands behind Dean's head, he pulled on him, wanting him to take more of his cock, faster and harder. His other hand moved to the back of Dean's head too, and he found himself panting with pleasure as he tugged on Dean, encouraging him, practically demanding to be allowed to fuck his mouth. His knees bent, they rested against Dean's shoulders as he gave himself over to the pleasures Dean was teaching him.

* * *

Dean allowed Sam’s hard length to slide deep into his mouth without resistance, loving the slightly bitter sweet taste of Sam’s come and the feel of the young man’s pulse on his tongue. So hot. So hard. The proof of Sam’s life, his passion, his vigor, in his mouth. So perfect.

As he moaned softly around the boy’s hard cock he watched greedily as the beautiful boy’s face twisted in pleasure with every flick and press of his tongue. Hearing Sam cry out loudly as he started sucking on the hard shaft and feeling the boy’s hands move to his head to hold him in place as he started to thrust gently down his throat taking his own pleasure was pure ecstasy. Sweet innocent desire… delicious sin… the demon savored it all.

He moaned again in pleasure and approval, knowing the boy would feel the vibrations all through his cock and only enhance his pleasure. All the while he never looked away from the young man’s face. Never looking away from Sam’s eyes as his tongue slid and rubbed firmly along the vein on the underside of Sam’s cock. His cheeks hollowed, sucking hard, as the boy withdrew then relaxing once more to allow the boy back inside with a deep groan.

Giving the boy what he wished, Dean relaxed his throat and began to bob his head back and forward, his hands moving from the young man’s thighs to cup his ass. A gentle but firm squeeze of the firm round globes, tugging Sam slightly forward, all the encouragement the young man apparently needed to begin fucking his mouth in earnest.

* * *

"Oh God, oh God Dean, unh..." Words broke from Sam's lips, words he wasn't sure were completely intelligible, but he'd stopped thinking a long time ago. All that mattered right now as the sharp, relentless ache low in his belly, that need for release. Dean was letting him fuck his mouth in a way that he hadn't even through possible but wouldn't question. "Yeah... oh God... yeah..."

Gripping Dean's shoulder's harder, Sam concentrated on chasing his release. He needed it, needed it so damned bad, as bad as he'd needed Dean over the last few days when he'd had a constant hard on for the man he'd run from. God this felt perfect, Dean's mouth wrapped around his cock, tight and wet, taking it deep and sucking just right. A strong shudder passed through him. He wimpered, pleaded, then arched back, crying out as his orgasm slammed into him with unexpected intensity. His knees bucked against Dean's shoulders as his cum flooded the back of Dean's throat, Dean's hands on his ass keeping him in place and letting him rock his hips a few more times.

Gasping for air, he ran his hand through Dean's hair, stroked it lovingly, then slowly pulled out of Dean's mouth. "That was... incredible." He bent down and kissed Dean, pulling back when he tasted himself in Dean's mouth. His brows furrowed for a moment, then he leaned in again and brought his mouth over Dean's, accepting Dean's tongue into his mouth and this time enjoying the taste without analyzing it. His mouth clung to Dean's even as the other man got up, and started to back him toward he steaming Jacuzzi.

When Dean broke the kiss, Sam looked behind him at the Jacuzzi and then back at Dean. "Don't you want me to..." His gaze traveled down Dean's chest to his cock, then back up.

* * *

Dean’s fingers tightened on Sam’s ass when he felt the young man’s thrusts quicken, growing erratic. Feeling those firm muscles tighten and knowing his release would come soon, the demon swallowed his lover deep. Tightening his lips around the boy’s cock and sucking hard, moaning deeply when he felt the hot splash of his lover’s come hit the back of his throat. Greedily swallowing everything the beautiful boy had to offer as he supported Sam’s weight as the young man shouted and shuddered in his arms.

He finally allowed the boy’s cock to slip free of his mouth when Sam had no more to give him. Lovingly licking the boy clean the demon looked up at Sam with a fond smile at the gentle petting and praise. A pleased sound escaping his throat when Sam leaned down to kiss him. Though the young man suddenly pulling back amused him, obviously balking at the taste of come in his mouth. He was a little surprised, but not in a bad way, when Sam leaned in to kiss him again, deeper this time.

Dean moaned softly in approval as he returned the kiss and slowly rose to his feet, never breaking the press of their lips and tongues tangling slowly together. Now that the foreplay was over, Dean began leading Sam towards the waiting Jacuzzi, only finally breaking their kiss because he didn’t want to risk Sam slipping and breaking his neck.

Sam’s unfinished offer made him smile even more fondly at the young man.

“Soon.” He answered, instead taking Sam by the hand and stepping into the deep hot tub first, then helping the young man inside. With a pleasant sigh Dean slid down into the water. Making himself comfortable and then tugging a little on the young man’s hand to guide Sam down to sit in front of him, leaning back against him.

“There… that’s nice…” Dean practically purred in Sam’s ear as his arms slid around the young man, holding him and running his fingers slowly up and down the beautifully muscled chest. “Relaxed?”

* * *

The way Dean said _soon_ had Sam's heart beating with excitement. It wasn't just a matter of returning a favor, deep down inside him, he had this need to please Dean, to not want to fail him. He wasn't sure where those feelings came from but Dean seemed to stir up so many feelings and emotions inside him, it was probably useless to try to figure out why or how. It was something he just had to accept.

He stepped into the hot tub and let Dean guide him, surprised and pleased that Dean wanted him to sit in front of him, between his legs. Leaning back, against Dean's chest, his mouth curved into a smile hearing Dean's words in his ear. "Nice, yeah, very. You make a great chair, uh huh, I'm very relaxed," he answered, turning his face toward Dean and kissing his throat as he felt Dean's hands move over him.

The hot water bubbled around them, relaxing Sam even further though he was very aware of Dean's hands stroking and exploring his body. Dropping his hands into the water, he did the same, finding Dean's legs and moving his hands up and down his thighs, loving how his muscles flexed under his palms. "If I had a hot tub with a 'Dean fixture' in it, I'd be so relaxed I'd never get any work done," he said, only half teasing. He was sure that where everyone else failed, this man could successfully distract him from school work.

They spoke in low voices, about various things, like they were chatting over coffee or something. It amused Sam, how he could appear to be so casual, but he was naked, laying against an equally naked man, and occasionally stealing a kiss between their banter. "Dean?" Once again he turned toward the man, lifting his face to see Dean's eyes. "I'm going to a wedding next weekend. You wanna... you wanna come with? It's down in San Diego in this cool little church built before California was even a state, and the reception is at a winery. Be my date," he said, not knowing where he got the courage to ask Dean.

* * *

Dean chuckled softly at the young man’s teasing that he made a great chair. The demon almost responded that Sam could sit on him any time he wanted, but decided against it. He didn’t want to ruin this moment with crude jokes. Instead he merely smiled at the soft kiss the young man pressed to his throat and allowed himself to relax with Sam in his arms.

It was indeed very nice and relaxing, just holding the young man and talking about nothing important. When was the last time he’d just talked with a mortal, not trying to seduce or offer them a deal? Actually, it had been with Sam, in the restaurant a few days ago. That had been nice too. Not quite as nice as this, but still very nice.

And then Sam asked him to be his date… to a wedding. The demon was understandably shocked. It was one thing to have a date, to meet him at Dante’s, and for Sam to come over his place where they could be alone together. It was another for the young man to want to ‘show him off’ at something respectable like a wedding. Where they would be surrounded by the young man’s friends, not mere strangers.

Perhaps even more surprising was just how much Dean wanted to go, but of course he couldn’t. Demons and churches didn’t exactly mix well after all. Especially old churches. Perhaps if it had been a newer church, where they didn’t always practice the more ‘superstitious’ cleansing rites. But an old church… chances are at one time or another all the precautions had been made in order to keep out evil. Evil like him.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I can’t. I’ll be out of town next weekend on business.” Dean replied softly, genuine regret in his voice even though his reasons were a lie. “I would have liked to be your date.”

* * *

Having seen how direct Dean could be, Sam didn't doubt his word. If he was busy with work, then he was busy. He sat up slightly and twisted toward Dean so he could really look at him as he put one arm around his shoulder. "It's okay, business first, I get that. And homework," his lips curved into a smile remembering Dean's shock at the fact he was bringing some school work over with him. "Besides, now that Drew's had a look at you he'll be pushing every good looking guy with green eyes at the party at me." He knew the face Dean was making was just to make him happy. Chuckling, he leaned in. "I don't think there are any... guys like you. I know you'll think this is crazy but I think I might have been waiting for you, except I was looking in all the wrong places." Slanting his mouth over Dean's he kissed him softly. "Libraries," he kissed him again, "schools. Science fairs. Museums," he added kissing between each word. "Who knew you'd be at the last place I'd ever look? Guess I'm lucky I let my friends force me to go to Dante's that night. Very lucky."

Closing both arms around Dean, Sam showed him how lucky he felt. He tangled his tongue with Dean's, sliding it back and forth, then mapping out every corner of his lover's mouth until he ran out of air and had to pull back. Settling back down, he dropped his head on Dean's shoulder, his face turned in so it was pressed against Dean's wet flesh. He licked Dean's throat. "You taste good wet." Yeah he knew that was silly and very unlike him, but he was feeling light hearted and being here with Dean had everything to do with it. Being away from him had been like having the lights turned off. He hadn't only been obsessed with Dean and missed him, it was more than that. He hadn't been able to enjoy anything else, like his world had gone dark. He guessed some would call him a teen age girl for going through that so he probably shouldn't give up that bit of information. But it was what it was, and he was happy now. Not always confident, not always sure he could or would ever be enough for a man like Dean. He'd deal with those insecurities later. Right now, he knew he didn't have a real claim on this man. But maybe in time, if Dean kept him around for a while.

He put his hand over Dean's, which was moving up and down his stomach and chest. Slipping his fingers through Dean's, he squeezed and made a satisfied sound. "This is nice. How often do you do this?" He raised his face, his eyes widening suddenly. "I mean go in the Jacuzzi, not... I don't really wanna know... ah..." He looked away. "Can I take some of that back?"

* * *

Dean was glad that Sam didn’t appear too upset about the fact that he had to ‘work’ that weekend. It was really a shame the first time the young man asked _him_ out on a date that it had to be on holy ground. Hopefully the next time… if there was a next time… it would be someplace the demon could actually step foot on. Not a church, or a beach, or someplace made completely out of iron. Or Sam might start to think he was simply blowing him off.

The demon snorted softly when Sam said that business, and homework, had to come first. Well, Dean supposed he couldn’t really say too much about the young man doing his homework rather than entertaining him while he was here. Though that didn’t mean that Dean couldn’t offer some distraction from time to time. All work and no play…

Dean frowned a little when Sam mentioned the possibility of his friend trying to hook the young man up with other men at the wedding party. It was really a good thing that Sam’s ‘friend’ was also responsible for Dean meeting Sam in the first place or the demon might have considered breaking something painfully inside of Drew. It was also a good thing that Sam was quick to reassure the jealous demon that he wouldn’t be looking at any possible suitors Sam might have at this party.

Perhaps he could make an appearance at the reception…

Dean chuckled softly as Sam kissed him. No, Dean definitely wasn’t one to frequent museums or libraries. Lucky… yes. Though some would certainly think otherwise.

The demon continued to gently caress the young man and moaned softly into Sam’s mouth in approval, letting the boy take the lead this time. He smiled slightly at the way the young man twined their fingers together and outright laughed as Sam stumbled over his question. Dean caught the young man’s face when Sam tried to turn away in embarrassment and turned it back towards him.

“How often do I use the hot tub? Often. How often do I do _this_? Never.” Dean decided he would let Sam decide whatever ‘this’ was between them on his own.

* * *

Sam's heart leaped when Dean forced him to maintain eye contact. Right now he wanted to disappear, but that was impossible. So Dean used the Jacuzzi a lot, but he didn't do _this_ ever. Okay now he did wish he had the courage to ask for a more detailed explanation. What did Dean mean he never did this? Like he'd never had sex or romanced someone in the Jacuzzi, or never _not had sex_ and just talked in the Jacuzzi or... Hell, he was gonna drive himself crazy trying to figure out what Dean meant, so he decided to just accept that this was maybe a little special to Dean too. "It's okay to ignore me when I put my foot in my mouth," he said with a sheepish grin.

He settled back down, keeping their hand entwined and loving the way Dean kept stroking him. "I feel like a cat. Might start purring soon," he muttered, his eyes fluttering shut as he relaxed completely. They were quiet for a while, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. He'd maybe been a little afraid of lulls in the conversation, but it felt natural. Every once in a while, one of them would kiss the other, and that was nice... very nice. The warm water bubbled up around him and with Dean's solid body under and behind him, and Dean's arm holding him, Sam felt safe and protected, in a way that he hadn't since he'd lost his parents. Yeah, okay, this was also hella sexy, but apart from that, it felt like _home_ , which was nuts, seeing as Dean was so different, his place, his lifestyle, everything about him was the opposite of Sam and his own family, but if he stripped away his initial fears, and closed his eyes like this, he knew he was home.

He whispered some things, then realized he was getting too comfortable and sat up slightly to get their glasses. "You've done what you said, I'm relaxed," he said, trying not to think about 'part one' of the way Dean had relaxed him. Turning his body around so he sat next to Dean, he passed him the other wine glass. "When I woke up this morning, I think it was the shittiest day of my life, okay of this year," he said. "Weird how the same day can be one of the best, huh?" He went on. "What are your best and worst days, ever?"

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at Sam’s comment and released the young man’s face, though not without giving those inviting lips a soft kiss first.

“You’re cute when you have your foot in your mouth.” The demon teased the young man good naturedly. Returning to running his fingers up and down Sam’s body languidly, re-exploring the expanse of soft flesh and hard muscle he’d come to learn so well in such a short time.

Dean chuckled in the young man’s ear, the sound suspiciously like a purr and he hoped Sam didn’t take too much notice of it. He always had to be careful not to make sounds that would sound too inhuman, but sometimes he slipped. Like now when he was relaxed and not fully concentrating on maintaining his human illusion. It just went to show how comfortable he was being “himself” in front of Sam… maybe too comfortable.

Still, he was very pleased he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do. Well, one of the things. They hadn’t quite gotten to the second half of Dean’s plan but that was all right, since he was still enjoying part one a great deal.

Smiling, Dean took the offered wine glass and took a sip from it. Though his relaxed smile vanished abruptly when Sam asked him…

His worst day… Listening to his brother Samuel’s dying screams, the stench of burnt flesh, bruising hands holding him back no matter how hard he fought to get to his brother, the agonizing grief watching his brother die and the burning hatred for the ones who’d murdered him… Dean shook himself out of the memory and gave Sam what he hoped was an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry… I… don’t think I can talk about that right now.” Dean replied. As much as he wanted to begin testing if Sam was really Samuel, testing to see how much the young man might remember if he was, that was not a memory the demon wanted to invoke. Not now at least. Dean offered the young man a more genuine smile. “The day you came here looking for your wallet. That was definitely one of the better days.” 

* * *

Sam was still half laughing at the tiger sound Dean made in his ear when he saw the laughter leave Dean's eyes. A strange expression crossed the man's face just for a second before he spoke again. Had he crossed the line in asking that question, was it too personal? He sucked his breath and leaned back a little, an apology on the tip of his tongue, when Dean continued and gave him a smile.

Had something bad happened to Dean? Sam literally bit down on his tongue to prevent himself from asking about something Dean clearly didn't want to talk to him about. He'd been trying to find out a little more about Dean, what made him happy and sad, what he was really like. Maybe he could ask again once they knew each other better. Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he smiled.

"That's on your 'good day' list, huh? Funny, it's on my 'most scared day' list." He ran his fingers through his wet hair, pushing it off his forehead and then taking another sip of his drink, before setting the glass down. "I almost died when the bartender at Dante's said you took it home and that you were within walking distance. If I hadn't needed my wallet, I'd probably never have come. You can make me so damned nervous," he admitted, touching his knee lightly to Dean's. "But not right now, now I'm totally relaxed."

Pushing away from the edge of the Jacuzzi, he dropped forward on his knees and moved between Dean's thighs. His gaze swept over the face of the handsome man in front of him, and down the line of his throat and chest to the water line, and back up. Dean had his arms spread wide, on the edge of the tub, one hand closed around the wine glass. He seemed to be looking at him intently too. Sam thought he saw a challenge in Dean's eyes.

His gut tightened, his blood rushed a little faster as he watched Dean's tongue sweep across his lower lip. Putting each hand on the edge of the tub on either side of Dean's shoulders, he leaned forward, like he was doing a push up over Dean. His gaze lingered on for a moment on Dean's lips before he opened his mouth and covered Dean's with his own. His heart rammed against his chest, but Dean made it easy, so easy, kissing him back, tangling their tongues together. Sam slowly explored every velvety hot corner of Dean's mouth, moaning softly as their tongues slid together. Lifting his head slightly, he brushed his mouth over Dean's cheek, then trailed kisses down along his jaw, playfully catching his chin between his teeth for a second.

Then he started to kiss his way down Dean's throat, licking him now and again. He mouthed Dean's adam's apple and moved lower, kissing across his collarbone. When he moved loser, he pressed his cheek down over Dean's heart and could feel and hear it beating. Smiling he moved again, this time closing his mouth over Dean's nipple, sucking and tweaking it with his tongue, loving how it tightened under his tongue. As he pulled off, Dean's flesh slipped out of his mouth with a wet sound.

He looked into Dean's eyes and to him, they didn't seem so focused anymore. That encouraged him. Lowering his head again, he started to kiss his way down the center of Dean's chest, dropping one of his hands down into the water, and sliding it up and down Dean's thigh. He wondered how long he could hold his breath under water.

* * *

Dean was glad that Sam let him avoid the question. This time. He had a feeling that it would come up again sometime in the near future. If Sam was anything like Samuel, and the young man certainly was, then the boy’s curiosity simply would not let the matter rest. Dean would have to decide soon just how much to tell the young man.

But for now Sam was amusing him describing how nervous he’d been the day the young man had come to his apartment in search of his wallet. Dean was even more glad that he’d taken it with him when he left the club that night, and he would have to give the bartender an extra big tip for giving it to him. He was a little surprised when Sam admitted that he made the young man nervous. Sam certainly had never seemed that nervous around him… if you didn’t count the way the boy had run from him at Dante’s and then again the next morning after they’d fucked. Ok, so maybe he did make Sam nervous, but he was glad when Sam clarified that he wasn’t nervous now.

“That’s good.” Dean replied when Sam said he was relaxed, and lifted an eyebrow when the younger man moved in the tub to face him. He smiled a little, wondering just what the young man had planned, and a slight challenge in his eyes. One the boy seemed all too eager to take him up on as Sam moved over him and kissed him.

Dean gave a soft sound of approval as he kissed the young man back but he let Sam set the pace this time. He sighed softly, letting his head lean back against the side of the tub as the young man began to explore the rest of his face and then down his neck with his lips and tongue.

When Sam stopped to press his cheek against his chest, listening to his heart, Dean felt a swell of affection inside of him for the young man that almost scared him. It seemed somehow more intimate than anything else they’d done, even though he’d fucked the boy practically raw in a crowded club. But that was just sex, this was something different.

Sam didn’t linger long however and Dean wasn’t sure if he was grateful or disappointed when the young man moved on. His lips and tongue playing with one of his nipples and Dean let his hand drop from the side of the tub to gently run through the young man’s hair as he moaned softly in pleasure.

The boy was relentless and soon his cock was starting to take interest just from the flicking tongue and gentle suction on the sensitive bud. Once Sam had sucked that nipple to a hardened peak, the young man moved onto the other making Dean groan. His breath was definitely growing quicker and when Sam looked up at him he could see the triumph in the young man’s eyes. The boy didn’t stop at his chest however, starting to kiss his way lower and Dean couldn’t help but wonder and anticipate just how far Sam was going to go. 

* * *

Still a bit surprised by how much he could affect someone as experienced as Dean, Sam smiled and was determined to follow through with this. Kissing Dean's chest above the waterline, he started to move his hands over Dean's abs, exploring every inch of him and following the lines of his muscles back and forth, each time moving lower. His hand and arm brushed against Dean's cock a few times so he was very aware of how hard the man was to be touched. Closing his hand gently around it, he jacked him slowly, learning his thickness and length and exploring the ridge of his crown with his thumb. He was learning as much as he was aiming to excite Dean, figuring out what movements seemed to work well and wondering at the fact he'd had Dean's cock buried in his ass, that they'd fit together, when he felt Dean jerk.

That brought him back to his senses. He could study Dean some other time. Nipping his chest with his teeth, Sam pressed open mouthed kisses across his chest as he started to pump Dean's fully erect cock. He squeezed and pumped until he felt Dean start to thrust, then took a deep breath and dipped his head under water.

Guiding Dean's cock to his mouth, Sam pushed its tip into his mouth and started to suck on it, harder and harder but making sure not to breath. He moved his closed fist up and down Dean's shaft, twisting his wrist, and moving it up to his mouth and back down. He wished he could see Dean's face. He wished he could hold his breath longer, but he held it as long as he could and came up for air. His hand never stopped moving, and within seconds he was back under the water, this time taking Dean's cock deeper, bouncing his head up and down harder and faster. He pumped Dean to the same rhythm, hoping it felt like one long stroke after the other.

He moved his free hand closer, fingering the expanse of flesh behind Dean's balls. Lifting his face, he asked breathlessly. "Does that feel good?" Water dripped from his face and hair. He blinked, but his hands kept working Dean and he was more than prepared to go down on him again.

* * *

Dean’s fingers continued to move gently through Sam’s wet hair, sometimes dropping low enough to caress the back of the young man’s neck, while he watched his lover through hooded eyes. The light touches of Sam’s hands running over his stomach, slowly moving lower, were relaxing and teasing at the same time. It was almost like an erotic massage, and Dean liked it. He liked it very much.

The intense look of concentration in the young man’s eyes when Sam’s fingers finally curled around his erect cock made Dean smile. He watched as the boy explored his cock slowly and carefully. Sam’s fingers slowly running up and down every inch of his length teasing him harder, making him almost purr in the back of his throat. It was maddening and at the same time almost soothing.

Sam didn’t tease him for long, however, and Dean moaned softly under his breath as the young man’s hand began to pump him more purposefully. Stroking his length harder and faster, making Dean’s hips buck slightly of their own accord on every upstroke, chasing the feel of Sam’s slick palm against his sensitive flesh. His breath coming faster… and then almost stopping completely as Dean watched with wide eyes as Sam took a deep breath and slid underneath the water.

Dean groaned loudly at the first feel of Sam’s lips opening to take in the head of his cock. The gentle suction on his flesh making his fingers tighten in the young man’s hair though Dean was careful not to push down or hold Sam under the water. He didn’t want to drown the boy, after all.

But despite the fact that Sam was obviously inexperienced he more than made up for it with enthusiasm. Dean’s groans and moans becoming louder as Sam worked, gasping as Sam did when the young man came up for air, and then immediately went back under to take him back in his mouth. When Sam surfaced again, panting, Dean wondered which one of them was more out of breath.

“Hell yes.” Dean answered the young man’s question, pushing back Sam’s wet hair from his face.

* * *

"Yeah?" Sam gave Dean a brilliant smile. He could tell that Dean wasn't exaggerating, that he was making him feel as good as Dean had made him feel. Turning his face sideways, he kissed Dean's palm, rubbing his mouth against it, then took a breath and submerged his head underwater. As he took Dean's cock into his mouth, he was just that much more determined to make this special for Dean. In his mind's eye, he kept imagining the look in Dean's eyes and hearing his 'hell yes' over and over. He wanted every lick, every suck to count, to draw that kind of sound or look from his lover. Running his tongue around the head of Dean's cock, while his hand pumped up and down, he realized from Dean's reactions that he liked it when Sam concentrated on his crown, so that's what he gave him.

He felt Dean's hand tug a little on his hair, felt his legs shift or tense, and loved every reaction. He took a quick breath and moved under water again, now taking every inch of Dean's cock until it bottomed out at his throat. He started to bob his head up and down, sucking hard, moving faster and harder along Dean's shaft. He'd come up for air when he needed, but his hand never left Dean's cock, always squeezing, stroking and pumping, and then moving up and down with Sam's mouth. Dean's reactions, the sounds he caught even from underwater, made Sam go incredibly hard. This was how Dean felt, this was how bad he needed to come, this was how he was throbbing in his mouth.

As he got more wound up, he moved his free hand up and down Dean's side and abs, pressing his palm and the heel of his hand down. The way Dean tensed under his palm told him Dean was close. Though he needed more air, he forced himself to hold it and gave everything he had to his lover, sucking harder and faster, squeezing him and stroking him, moving in rhythm with Dean's hips. Come on... come, he mentally pleaded as his chest burned with the need to breath but he refused to give in, not before he got Dean off.

* * *

Sam looked so damned pleased with himself when Dean admitted just how much he liked what the young man was doing to him that the demon couldn’t help but chuckle warmly. Smiling fondly at the boy as Sam began nuzzling into his hand and Dean continued to pet the young man gently, almost as though he were trying to memorize the boy’s features through touch alone. Caressing his cheek and running his fingers lightly over those sweet sinful lips.

Sam didn’t wait long however before the young man slipped back underneath the water and Dean groaned deeply in his chest at his lover’s newfound determination. Sam was nothing if not clever, and that wicked tongue and sinful mouth soon had Dean panting once more and thrusting his hips ever so slightly into Sam’s hand and mouth.

The boy alternated between playing with just the head of his cock and taking him deeper into his mouth than Dean would have guessed Sam could given his inexperience, and Dean savored it all. Watching greedily as Sam worked on his cock, licking, sucking, playing with his shaft with such enthusiasm that Dean was tempted to hold off coming for as long as he could. He could keep himself from coming for hours if he wanted to, drawing it out, making Sam work him harder and harder until it was near painful for both of them.

Maybe he would do just that sometime in the near future, but not this time. This time Dean had mercy on them both and let Sam’s surprisingly skillful efforts push him closer and closer, until he was poised right there on the razor’s edge. Sam had been under the water for a long time now, and Dean was certain that the young man would come up for air again soon. But when he didn’t, instead working him harder and faster, and the demon realized the reason why, that Sam was waiting for him, he couldn’t stop the loud groan from breaking free from his chest. His body going ridged with tension as he came hard in his lover’s waiting mouth. 

* * *

Sam didn't think he could hold his breath for even another second when Dean's body suddenly stiffened under him. Unwilling to miss what he'd worked for so hard, he stubbornly kept his lips wrapped tightly around Dean's cock until Dean jerked up and finally came. Though he couldn't swallow, the sensation of his love having come in his mouth was enough.

Pulling off, Sam lifted his head and dragged deep lungfuls of air into his burning lungs as he watched Dean through half lidded eyes. God that man was gorgeous, leaning back and looking very satisfied, his chest rising and falling like he was having trouble breathing too. The knowledge that he'd done that to Dean sent a thrill through Sam, a sense of power. Sure, logically he knew he wasn't that special, that Dean had probably had hundreds of blow jobs, but right now, he was the one responsible for Dean's state. He didn't like to fail, and he hadn't.

As soon as he had his breathing under control, Sam lunged forward, gripping the side of the jacuzzi on either side of Dean's body as he leaned over him. His gaze dropped to Dean's irresistible lips and seeing no reason to resist, he lowered his head and kissed Dean. He loved the way Dean let him slide his tongue inside and explore even though instinctively he knew Dean liked to be the one in control. That made Sam feel special. No, Dean generally had a way of making him feel that way when Sam wasn't over-thinking and and putting things into perspective.

Moving his tongue in and out of Dean's mouth, tangling it with Dean's tongue, Sam could barely think straight. The feelings that rushed through him washed everything away and made it impossible for him to try to analyze what it was about kissing like that that sent pleasure coursing through his body. His analytical mind was sometimes a curse, but this man robbed him of the ability to think. He groaned softly and kissed Dean again, loving how he tasted, how slick and warm his mouth was and how perfect this felt. So perfect that Sam hardly noticed he was rubbing his erection against Dean's thigh, that he'd straddled it and was riding it faster and faster.

When awareness hit him, he almost stopped and lifted his head and looked into Dean's eyes. "You're turning me into some sort of horny bastard," he said, his expression pained.

* * *

Sam’s face was dripping with water, wet hair falling into his face, and his mouth was dripping with come. He was flushed from lack of oxygen, panting hard for air, but looking so damned pleased with himself, and Dean wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a more beautiful sight in his whole life. The demon smiled down at the young man, stroking his lover’s hair back from his face once more, even as his own chest heaved, gasping for breath. His muscles still trembling with pleasure, as he thrust into Sam’s fingers still wrapped around his cock, letting the boy milk him for every last drop.

The young man stayed there between his legs for a long time, catching his breath, and Dean let himself admire the exquisite view. But then, without much warning, Sam was pushing himself up and over him. Practically ‘trapping’ him against the side of the tub and kissing him hard. The demon chuckled softly but parted his lips eagerly for Sam’s exploring tongue, twining his tongue with his lovers, and enjoying the taste of his own come on the young man’s lips and tongue.

Of course he felt Sam practically humping his leg, and the demon couldn’t help but smile into the kiss knowing just how worked up Sam had gotten just from sucking him off. Dean’s hands slid around the young man’s shoulders, caressing down the wet muscled back to cup and squeeze his lover’s ass. Soon he was pulling Sam’s hips forward to encourage the young man to move against him, moaning pleasure and encouragement into his lover’s mouth.

When Sam finally broke their kiss, the younger man’s soft panted words made Dean chuckle softly again.

“Is that such a bad thing?” He asked as his fingers suddenly delved between the younger man’s cheeks and easily found his lover’s twitching hole. Dean didn’t waste any time working two fingers into the younger man, thrusting them in and out of his lover’s body and playing with his prostate. 

* * *

"I don't know..." Sam started answering when he jerked forward, a surprised gasp leaving him at the sudden shock of pain almost immediately followed by a shock of pleasure. He tried to catch his breath, tried to relax and was quickly rewarded as Dean's fingers moved with precision, sending more shockwaves through him. "Fuck... Dean... didn't know you could do that," he said in broken gasps, clutching Dean's shoulders and moving against him once again, rubbing his now painfully hard dick along Dean's thigh and against his hip.

He turned to the side, and caught a glimpse of them in the mirror. His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he quickly looked away. "I don't know," he repeated, moving a little more urgently now. "How will I ever get anything done if I'm just... if all I want... how am I supposed to even sleep?" He asked. Sam was half serious. The dreams had kept him awake and on edge and needy. He'd had to freaking jerk off so many times, but still he'd gotten no rest. What if being with Dean was the same?

"Oh God... like that... just like that," he demanded, not even recognizing his own voice as he pushed back against Dean's fingers. "Yeah... don't stop," he begged, closing his arms tighter around Dean's shoulders and fucking against him faster, harder, squeezing his eyes shut as his entire body tensed to breaking point. "Ungh.... Dean!" he cried out as his orgasm slammed into him with surprising force. Moaning, he slowed his movements, riding Dean at a leisurely pace as he wound down. "That's three times in one night," he whispered, feeling a little foolish for counting or stating the obvious. "Gonna... gonna have to look up the symptoms of being a sexaholic. Seriously." And he was... serious.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but smirk a little evilly at the surprised sound of pleasure Sam made when he started to fuck the boy open with his fingers. The young man was so damned sweet. So innocent, considering his age, even while he was writhing on Dean’s lap, moaning obscenely, while Dean’s fingers worked inside of him. So sensitive. So willing to please. So delicious… and all Dean’s.

“I am very multi talented.” Dean whispered, a bit of amusement slipping into his tone in spite of himself. The boy’s obvious despair over ‘not getting anything done’ because he was too busy thinking about Dean fucking him all the time was quite flattering, though he was sure Sam would not think so. He had a feeling if he suggested to Sam to simply forget about doing other things and just let Dean fuck him all the time that probably wouldn’t go over so well, even if the boy _was_ currently writhing on his fingers thrusting in and out of his ass.

A compromise perhaps.

“Don’t think right now. Just feel. Just enjoy it. I guarantee, you’ll sleep very good tonight.” Dean whispered softly into the boy’s ear, before licking the shell and biting it softly. Giving Sam exactly what he asked for, rubbing his prostate harder as he scissored his fingers deep inside the young man.

As much as Dean would have liked to spend the entire night fucking the boy senseless, he would make sure that Sam slept well. Even if he had to put a mild sleep spell on the boy. He wouldn’t want Sam to get it into his head that Dean was a ‘bad influence’ after all.

Soon the boy was coming apart in his arms and Dean moaned feeling the warm splash of the boy’s come against his stomach, his tight inner muscles fluttering around his fingers so damned pretty. He gave the boy’s insides a few more tender strokes before he let his fingers slip free, his hand moving to the young man’s lower back and rubbing small circles soothingly there as Sam trembled against him. A warm laugh escaped his lips at Sam’s words.

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying sex, lover.” Dean chuckled softly, pressing a light kiss to Sam’s forehead, and running his palm languidly up and down the young man’s back. “Mmmm… I think your very relaxed now. Do you want to stay here for a little while longer, or move to the bed?”

* * *

Sam gave his own laugh, very aware he was amusing Dean but not miffed or anything. He enjoyed being stroked and touched, he'd just never known how much. His eyes drifted shut as Dean's palm moved down his back and he listened to his low, sexy voice. "Uh huh, I am relaxed," he agreed, slowly forcing his eyes open. "It's nice here. Stay just a few more minutes," he said, knowing he should pull away and sit up instead of draping himself all over Dean. But Dean didn't seem to be bothered by it so he enjoyed pressing against him and accepted the petting.

"You called me 'lover.'" The delayed realization had Sam a little stunned. "Never been called 'that' before." Well yeah, since he'd never.... Way to put his foot in his mouth again. He pushed up, giving Dean a sheepish grin and quickly reaching for the soap started making small talk. Standing up, he lathered quickly, feeling Dean's gaze on him an fighting against the instinct to quickly turn around and give Dean his back. It would be silly at this point, though Sam couldn't help the fact that the instinct was still there.

Just as he was about to sit back in the water, he caught Dean's nod toward the open shower next to the jacuzzi. Stepping up and out of the jacuzzi, he entered the shower and turned the water on, yelping as cold water hit his steaming flesh. It warmed up read fast, and all he needed was to rinse off the soap, then he stepped out or the shower and onto a towel. Grabbing one, he wrapped it around his waist and took another to dry off his chest and face. He carefully avoided looking at all the points of flames, the candles around the bathroom. "See you inside," he glanced at Dean then walked out of the bathroom.

"That was.... awesome. All of it," he called out, having more courage to do so out of Dean's sight. Within minutes, he'd brought in his duffel bag and put on some light drawstring leisure pants. He skipped the boxers, ninety percent sure that there would be morning sex, and decided against a tee shirt since he'd already seen that Dean didn't wear them to bed.

* * *

Dean made a sound of agreement. It certainly was nice, and he was going to enjoy running his hands all over the beautiful young man sitting in his lap for as long as Sam let him. Sweeping his hands slowly down the boy’s back, over his buttocks, and flanks, then back up to his shoulders. Sometimes running his fingers through Sam’s damp hair and playing with the soft strands at the base of his neck. He could have enjoyed doing this for hours.

“I did.” Dean confirmed Sam’s observation, a smile in his voice. A small sigh of regret escaping him when the young man finally moved to sit up, though at least it didn’t seem Sam was upset by his little slip of the tongue. So Dean merely smiled at the young man, enjoying the ‘show’ as he watched Sam soaping himself down. The light blush on the young man’s cheeks was positively endearing.

When Sam was finished he indicated the boy could rinse off in the shower, and grinned again at the somewhat girly yelp the young man made when he first turned on the water. Still chuckling softly Dean took up the soap himself and proceeded to wash off the evidence of their love making then stood up from the tub as well.

He gave Sam a nod and proceeded to rinse off the soap and lingering bath oils from his skin as Sam had. Finished quickly, Dean dried off and slipped his black silk pants back on before draining the tub and blowing out the candles around the room. The demon hadn’t missed how Sam had looked at them, or more correctly, not looked at them. That combined with Sam’s initial reaction to walking into the bathroom… definitely curious.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Dean said, coming to stand in the doorway of the bedroom, leaning against the frame as he watched Sam. 

* * *

Shocked by Dean's voice sounding so close, Sam quickly looked over. His heart leaped up at the sight of Dean lounging against the door, shirtless and in those black silk pants. God he was handsome. No, he was more than that, he was beautiful. Sam licked his lips and couldn't stop staring, even as he backed up to the bed, and pulled the covers down. "I like..."

Running a hand through his wet hair, Sam dropped down on the edge of the bed. "Seriously, looking like that should be illegal or something. No wonder all those people were all over..." He looked down for a moment. No, he wasn't jealous, he wasn't going to be jealous. "Were like me," he said with a shrug. "You... you wanna come over and kiss me cause I could use some 'shutting up' right now." His heart banged against his chest again as he imagined Dean slowly walking over, putting one knee on the bed, then the other and crawling over him. Swinging his legs onto the bed, he moved back, his eyes never leaving Dean's.

* * *

Dean couldn’t deny he absolutely loved Sam’s reaction upon seeing him. Never mind that they’d just been sharing a bath naked together. Never mind that he’d just made Sam come his brains out. The boy was still looking at him in obvious appreciation and lust.

The demon chuckled softly, watching as Sam slowly laid down on the bed, so invitingly, and he finally stepped away from the door. Moving slowly, almost languidly, his eyes never leaving Sam’s as he approached the bed.

“I’m glad you like.” He practically purred, moving towards the foot of the bed.

It seemed like studying was no longer on Sam’s agenda. That was just fine with Dean.

Dean didn’t bother removing the silk pajama bottoms, since Sam liked them so much, as he slowly knelt at the foot of the bed. Then, much like a panther stalking its prey, Dean slowly crawled up, his eyes hungrily devouring the young man every step of the way.

His knees on either side of Sam’s hips, his hands on either side of the young man’s shoulders, Dean looked down at Sam and his lips turned up in an inviting smile.

“Want to go for four times?” 

* * *

Sam held his breath the entire time Dean stalked toward him, then slowly climbed over him, though there was no touching. It was crazy that he was burning for Dean's touch all over again, though he had to admit he got a lot of pleasure out of watching Dean too. "Four time, huh?" Swallowing, he put his arms around Dean's broad shoulders and stroked his smooth back, loving how his muscles moved under his palms. "I think I could be persuaded," he said, smiling back, his gaze dropping to Dean's mouth. His own burned with anticipation as he cupped Dean's neck and pulled him down, lifting his own head and meeting Dean halfway in an hot, wet kiss that easily persuaded Sam he wanted more. More of Dean's kisses, his tantalizing smell, his touches which could be both gentle and rough at the same time. He wanted to hear Dean's moans, he loved hearing how he affected the guy. Maybe it was because he still couldn't believe it, that Dean was really this interested in him, or maybe he liked how he seemed to echo Dean's groans because his entire body would somehow react to the them. "Mmmm, yeah, more," he finally whispered, pushing his hand inside the waste band of Dean's silky pajama pants and squeezing his firm ass.


	4. Chapter 4

(1609)  


  
_Come away oh human child  
To the waters and the wild  
With a faery hand in hand  
For the world's more full of weeping  
Than he can understand…" _

The front door was open. Samuel lay on the couch with a blanket wrapped tightly around him even though the day was very warm. Watching his brother go back and forth water, filling the bucket and watering the vegetable garden, a sense of guilt swept through him. It wasn't the usual guilt from his forced physical inactivity and uselessness to his brother who worked so hard, day in and day out, without complaint. Yes, that played into it too, but today it was surpassed by other feelings.

Usually, he woke early with his brother. Whether or not he felt well enough to rise immediately, his eyes opened when Dean rose from his bed. Today, he'd been so drained and sick, he'd slept through it. Later, a worried Dean had come in and knowing he would find a way to get down the stairs on his own, had carried him down. Because the sun was already up and hot, Dean didn't have his shirt on, and he smelled slightly of the outdoors and sweat. He'd closed his strong arms around Sam, and pressed against his brother's warm body, Sam had felt some of the chills that had been wracking his own body leave. He'd felt something else too. His heart beat just a little faster. It ached, he ached from his heart to the pit of his stomach, because he knew what he was feeling was not right. That his shallow breathing wasn't just from being sick, that wanting to move closer each time he felt Dean's warm breath across his face was not right. It wasn't natural. A lump rose in his throat as he wondered why he was plagued with such thoughts about Dean. Dean who would do anything for him. Dean who would turn away in disgust if he knew. He could never know. He wouldn't, Sam was determined.

His teeth started to chatter and he rolled onto his side, pulling his knees up and curling his body. He knew Dean was going to town later. If he saw him like this... He needed to get better. He didn't want Dean to go over to the neighbors to see if Maureen or one of her siblings had time to watch him. Sam would rather stay alone than that. And he'd be fine, he was used to this, to being sick. There wasn't anything they could do anyway, and more often than not, he was worse off for their company. A little strength, he prayed for that. And for a way to put the thoughts of how his brother's arms felt around him out of his head. Mostly he wished he didn't have this secret, because it weighed heavily on him. They talked about everything, shared everything. Dean even told him what it had felt like to kiss a girl, and now Sam just wondered what it would be like to be a girl, only so it would be alright to kiss Dean."

* * *

It was the middle of summer. The crops were doing well, very well, in fact. It looked like they were going to have a better harvest than they had last year. The seeder Samuel had designed for him earlier this year had helped tremendously during the planting and was surely one of the reasons they were going to have such and abundant crop.

One of their cows had just given birth the other day and the calf was also doing extremely well. If their herd kept growing like this he would have to pay someone to help him take care of them, but better yet, he could afford to. He was in the process of loading their wagon with milk, eggs, and a few baskets of ripened vegetables he was planning on selling at the market today. So often he’d been told they had the best produce in the whole county and even though his stall was still relatively new at the market, many came to him instead of the other stands that had been there longer.

But even as well as things were going on the farm, and what a beautiful day it was, Dean’s mood was poor. Samuel was sick again. It had come on so suddenly. Samuel seemed to be getting ill more and more recently and Dean was so afraid of what that might mean. His brother’s body had been so frail for years, he was afraid it was all finally taking its toll on the younger boy.

Dean had even had to start asking their neighbors for help keeping watch over Sam if Dean was going to be gone from the house for a long while. Mr. Myers’ daughter Maureen was all too happy to help and it had been a great burden off of his mind to know that Samuel would be looked after when he wasn’t around.

When Dean came inside to check on Sam, his heart broke as it always did to see his brother in so much pain. Dean was going to buy better medicine for his brother while he was in town today, he didn’t care how much it cost.

Dean knelt down beside the couch and ran his fingers through the younger boy’s sweaty hair that he knew had nothing to do with the heat of the day.

“Samuel? How are you feeling?” 

* * *

Sam smiled, wishing Dean could just stay with him and stroke his hair all day long. "I'm much better. I'll be up and around by nightfall," he promised, pushing his forehead lightly into Dean's calloused palm. Nothing could sooth him or making him feel safer than Dean. If it weren't for his brother, Sam was sure he would have long ago wished to leave this life. But the thought of leaving Dean, it stabbed him in the heart. As much as he thought of himself as being a burden, he knew his absence would be a worse one for his brother.

He pushed himself slightly up. "Are you going into town today?" He knew the answer. "You know you don't have to rush back? It's a long trip, and it's your chance to see other people," he said, meaning it. Sometimes Dean took him along in the wagon, but it was out of question today. "If you leave me some bread and cheese here," he nodded at the table near the sofa, "I'll be fine. I don't ... dean I don't need anyone to watch over me," he said, reaching up and gripping his brother's arm. "I swear to you, I'm fine."

The look in his brother's eyes had his heart lurching. He looked away, not knowing how to deal with the feelings that tortured him these days.

* * *

Dean frowned a little at Samuel's answer. It was pretty obvious, despite his brother's reassurances, that he was _not_ feeling any better. If anything, the younger boy probably looked worse, but he was pretending to be. Samuel knew better than to lie to him about this. The fact that Samuel was trying to lie to him now made him worry even more about his brother.

Maybe he shouldn't go into town today… but the wagon was already packed for the market and Samuel needed medicine if nothing else. Dean had to go, but he didn't want to leave the younger boy alone like Samuel was insisting.

"Samuel… what's wrong? I know you're not feeling better, if anything you're looking worse. I don't like the idea of leaving you alone when you're this ill, you know that. Maureen has said many times it is no trouble to come here and watch over you. Don't you like her?" Dean asked, frowning with both worry and suspicion.

Maureen had made her intentions to him quite clear on a number of occasions. Hinting that he should come to one of their father's many parties, asking him to go into town with her, or coming to speak to him while he worked sometimes. She wanted him to court her.

He supposed she was pretty and nice enough, but he did not have time for such things. He had this farm and his brother to care for, and that was enough for him. More than enough. His brother was his first priority always, he did not want or need a wife right now. Perhaps some years from now when their dept was paid and he could hire more help for the farm he would consider marrying but not right now.

She had agreed to watch over his brother several times before when he had errands to run to town and such and it had been a great load off his mind. But if she had upset Samuel somehow…

* * *

  
"I just... I don't need watching, Dean. You worry so much," he looked down, so his brother wouldn't see the truth in his eyes. "I'll just lay here and I won't move, I won't get up, I swear." He was quite sure that he wouldn't be in any condition to move around so the promise was easily made, though he often did disobey Dean's orders that he stay put. When he had the strength and energy, he didn't want to wast that time laying around. He wanted to be as useful to his brother as he could be. And this wasn't about other people viewing him as a drain on his brother's time, energy and living, it was just something he had to do. Same as his brother would do anything for him, Sam would do anything for Dean. He just... he didn't have as much to offer.

He looked up again. "Dean are you going to... to marry her, Maureen?" He'd never had the courage to ask, because he'd been afraid of the answer. She'd never hidden her agenda though and did seem to like, at least Dean, a lot. Suppressing the twang of jealousy, he added. "I mean, is that why you want her here? The way she looks at you, I don't think you need an excuse." Was she the girl Dean had kissed? His brother never told him who it was, just how it felt. Finding that his gaze was focused on Dean's mouth, he quickly looked away, toward the fire place, though no fire was burning.

* * *

Dean sighed softly at Samuel’s answer, which wasn’t really an answer. It had been an argument between them pretty much since his brother’s accident. Samuel thought Dean treated him too delicately, worried about him too much, and often argued that he could do much more than he should.

He knew his brother hated when Dean told him to simply rest and relax, he couldn’t count how many times he’d ask his brother to let him handle something and then the younger boy would be up trying to do it himself. It made Dean angry because it scared him so much. What if Sam tried to do something and he ended up hurting himself or making himself very sick? Just the thought of losing his brother made Dean’s heart beat fast with panic. Why couldn’t Samuel simply let Dean handle everything?

This was different however. This time Samuel was very sick and Dean had every reason to worry. So his brother telling him not to worry only made Dean worry more.

“Samuel…” Dean sighed as his brother practically begged him to be left alone. Promising he would simply lay here and rest, which Samuel often promised and sometimes he kept and sometimes didn’t. But even though he knew Samuel was too weak right now to get up by himself even if he tried, Dean still did not want to leave his brother alone _because_ of that. What if something happened? Anything could happen while Dean was not here, and he would never forgive himself if he left his brother alone and something terrible did happen.

Samuel’s unexpected question took Dean by surprise and for a moment he didn’t answer. When his brother went on to say that he didn’t need to use Samuel being sick as an ‘excuse’ to see Maureen, Dean quickly shook his head but his brother wasn’t looking at him. Samuel seemed very distressed at the thought of him marrying Maureen, and he could only conclude that his brother did not like her for some reason. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter to Dean; he would not ask her to come over any longer. Dean took his brother’s hand, and cupped Samuel’s cheek, turning the younger boy’s face towards him so his brother would know the truth of his words.

“No, Samuel, I am not going to marry her. I know what she wants, but I have never wanted anything like that from her. I do not want any wife. I am perfectly happy with it only being the two of us. If you do not want Maureen here I will not ask her to come over any longer, but you do need someone to watch over you today. I will worry constantly for you otherwise. I can ask Mrs. Johnson to come watch over you on my way into town. Would that be better?”

* * *

"I don't... I don't want to be in the way," Sam said miserably. One day Dean would find a girl and marry her, and Sam would make himself love her too, for Dean. Maybe she, whoever she was, would be nice. Sam would like that, just not Maureen, or someone like her. But deep down, he knew if Dean wanted Maureen, he'd tell his brother it was fine, he'd find a way to make do. His brother seemed to mean it when he said he had no feelings for her, that eased a little of Sam's guilt.

"Whatever you want Dean, really." For no reason, he gave his brother a hug. Maybe he held him a few seconds longer than he should, but he knew the older they got, the more he would lose of Dean. Not that his brother would leave him alone, but the hugs and touches would be fewer, as they already were. And one day he'd have to share Dean, with a wife, and probably their children. Maybe then his heart would stop yearning for the impossible, would see how happy Dean was and how things should be.

Tired, he dropped back down and let his eyes close. "Go on then, before it gets too hot to travel," he whispered. "And bring me back one of your gossipy tales. You know, the ones Mrs. McKenna 'foists on you,'" he said, giving a dimpled smile. Dean swore up and down he didn't go to the woman's shop to gather news, but Sam thought otherwise.

"I'll be find Dean. Go." He took a deep breath and slipped into a painless state of sleep.

*

The day had dragged by with Sam moving in and out of sleep. His waking hours were painful, his head spun, his body hurt, so sleep was always welcome. He was keenly aware that one of these days he could fall asleep and never wake. Even though they'd never spoken about it, he was sure this was Dean's fear too. Very often, when he was asleep, he'd wake to find Dean leaning over him, listening for his breaths, or with his hand over his heart, making sure ... Sam guessed his brother was making sure he was still alive. It was one thing he hadn't teased Dean about, couldn't. It broke his heart every time he saw relief in Dean's face when he woke up, or when he did better after a bout of being very ill. That had to be taking a huge toll on Dean.

Mrs. Johnson knitted most of the day, bringing him water and urging him to eat a little. She was kind, and when he had the energy, he liked to talk with her. He'd carved a little device to help her keep her yarn from tangling and since then, he was apparently either 'a very wise man in a small body' ... which was something she apparently hadn't noticed had changed in the last few years... or saint. St. Samuel, he'd laughed, and told her to make sure she told Dean that.

Now she was reading the bible to him. He liked hearing the stories, and it was nice not to have to hold the book himself. He was relaxed and even smiling a little when the door flew open. "De..." His smile fell away as Maureen walked in, pulling her shawl off her shoulders. It was evening now, but it was still a bit warm. Or maybe it was him, he wasn't sure.

She walked straight to Mrs. Johnson and started talking to her, acting very much like he wasn't right there with them. She demanded to know where Dean was, and why it was she'd seen him in town but he'd driven right past her, and why he hadn't asked her to watch over his brother. Maybe it was best he pretended to be asleep, it was better than the discomfort of being ignored. Little did he realize that the two women would agree among themselves that Maureen would take over watching him and Mrs. Johnson would go home. The few words he tried to interject were ignored, and really what could he say that wouldn't be rude?

For over an hour, or so it felt, there was an uneasy silence between them. He treasured those moments, only because the alternative were some barbed comments about him being like an anchor around Dean's neck. "Tell me something I don't know," he eventually whispered, not realizing her sharp ears would catch the words.

She strode right over to him and looked down. Her long golden hair was pulled back tight and was covered by a white cotton hat. "There's a lot you don't know, Samuel. For one, if it weren't for you, your brother wouldn't be doing the work of four men alone. He'd have time to go courting, and find himself a wife before he's too old. A wife with nice healthy brothers who could help him, who wouldn't bleed the life out of him a little at a time."

Sam sucked his breath in, leaned back into the sofa, but nodded. "I'm sure you're right. But it's how it is, not what I want," he said miserably.

"It's how it is, it's not what I want..." she mocked. "Then free him. Tell him to get a wife."

"I'm not stopping him," Sam responded, looking away from her scornful expression.

"I'm not stopping him," again, she mimicked. "If he weren't taking care of an addled sickling, he could have his pick, he'd have had two children on his knees by now. If ye weren't the village idiot, you would know it."

Tears gathered in Sam's eyes. He looked down and stopped answering. Then he stretched, reaching for the chamber pot, his eyes flying up to her face when she pushed it away with her foot. "I need the piss pot," he said softly. He tried again to reach for it, and she pushed it further. "Please." At her silence, he pushed himself up to a sitting position and tried to stand. His legs shook so bad, he could barely get his ass off the sofa. He reached for the crutch that was leaned up against the back of the couch.

She gave a nasty laugh. Both of them knew he probably wouldn't make it. "I'm going to soil myself," he whispered. "He'll come and he'll wonder..."

"Are you threatening me?" she asked, grabbing the jug of water on the table and immediately pouring its contents over Sam's head as if to punish a child.

He didn't want to cry, but the tears started. Hand shaking, he used the crutch and every ounce of his stubborn will to get up. He'd taken a single painful step when her hand struck his face full force, pushing his feeble body too quickly one side. The crutch fell away as he started to fall to the ground, hands stretching out to break the fall.

* * *

Dean was smiling as he drove the wagon up their little dirt road to the house and parked it near the barn. It had been a very good day in town today. He’d sold almost all his wares at his stall and had several requests to bring more if he could the next time he came to the market. The only reason why he hadn’t sold everything was because he started packing up his stall earlier than most of the others, wanting to be home before night fall.

With the profits he’d made today he’d been able to buy some very good medicines for Samuel. Dean hadn’t cared how much they cost, or that he’d spent almost all the money he’d earned today on them. As long as they made his brother better, he didn’t care about the money. With the remainder of the money he bought some of the things Samuel had given him a list for his latest project before his brother had fallen ill. Dean knew his brother would want to start on his project once he was feeling better again.

Making sure all his purchases were well wrapped, Dean spent just enough time to get the latest gossip from Mrs. McKenna, for Samuel not for himself, before he headed home. He’d made good time and it was just after dark by the time he got the horse unhitched from the wagon and into the barn.

What he saw when he opened the front door of his home was certainly not what he’d expected to find and to say he was shocked would have been the understatement of the century. Instead of finding his brother resting comfortably where Dean had left him, Mrs. Johnson watching over the younger boy until he got back, he saw his brother standing… or barely standing… soaking wet, and simply watching the younger boy struggle with the perhaps cruelest expression he’d ever seen on someone’s face before. Appearing almost amused by his brother’s efforts.

Then the unthinkable happened. Before Dean could demand what the hell was going on, he watched almost in slow motion as Maureen hit Samuel hard across the face. Dean saw red, and at the same time he felt ice cold terror grip him as he watched his frail brother falling to the unforgiving floor.

He might have called his brother’s name, but he wasn’t sure. The packages he’d been carrying were completely forgotten, dropped as he moved faster than he thought possible, his only thought to break his little brother’s fall. Distantly he heard the sound of glass shattering, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was his arms closing around the younger boy, taking the pain himself as he hit the floor instead of Sam. 

* * *

The pain he expected never came. Sam found himself on the ground but on top of his brother, being held by him. He'd heard a loud crack, and it hadn't been his own head hitting the floor, it had been Dean's! "D... Dean?" He started to panic, "Dean... let go... Dean... Dean!"

"How did you move so..." Maureen moved toward them. "It's not what you think. What you saw..." Seeing she was being ignored, she turned on her heels, picked up her shawl and marched out.

Sam started to sob in earnest. It wasn't the pain. It wasn't even that Dean had got hurt instead of him. It humiliation, pure and simple. His pants were wet, and though he didn't think any urine got on his brother, it was the fact he hadn't been able to hold it. Now Dean would have to help him change too, on top of everything else he had to do. Maureen was right, he was like an anchor sinking his brother. He wished it weren't true, but it was... it was all too true.

*

[The Present]

Sam woke with a start. It wasn't the usual dream, that one that scared him so freaking much that he woke up to his own shouting more often than not. This was almost worse. He felt the warm tears on his face and could not shake off the sadness, the heartbreaking dream about a no win situation. Feeling the warmth at his back, and the arm around him, he realized he was with the very man he'd dreamed about. Brother... desire for a brother... A strange sense of shame washed over him. New shame, not from the dream.

He rolled over slowly, now facing Dean. In the dark, he could see his silhouette. Lightly, he ran his hand over Dean's face, so smooth, so damned good looking... like the model to the rugged version of the Dean he'd seen in his dream. He kissed him. _You're not my brother. I can have you._ Closing his arm around Dean's waist, he kissed him again, harder, moving against him, wanting him to hold him like his dream brother had. Wanting comfort, wanting the dream to dissipate, to leave him alone. To leave him to reality, a reality that was good. Really really good for him, right now.

* * *

Dean didn’t sleep that night. It wasn’t because he was afraid of Sam leaving again in the morning without him knowing, he simply wanted to remain awake. He wanted to watch Sam sleep, not wanting to miss a single moment.

So after making love to Sam one last time in bed, he watched with a satisfied smile on his lips as the young man drifted off into perfect sated exhaustion. He’d curled behind Sam, wrapping his arms loosely around the boy’s middle and pressed his face against the back of Sam’s neck. Inhaling his scent, enjoying the feel of him, the warmth of his body, his smell, everything. Soaking it in like a sponge, etching it into his memory for all time.

After a while he began to hum softly. The song he’d used to sing to Samuel to lull his brother to sleep when he was feverish or simply when his brother wanted to hear it. As the hours ticked by that was all the demon did. One hand pressed to his lover’s chest, feeling every heartbeat and breath he took, he watched Sam sleep and sung to him softly.

It was late in the night, or early in the morning depending on how one looked at it, when Sam suddenly jerked awake in his arms. The young man had been sleeping so peacefully before, Dean was certainly surprised by the sudden change.

He smelled the young man’s tears, a sadness clinging to Sam that was hauntingly familiar.

Samuel…

The boy in his arms turned around and the demon’s eyes slid closed. Pretending to be asleep for now, simply because he did not know how Sam would like knowing he’d been watching him sleep. The light touch to his face was almost hesitant at first, but quickly grew bolder. Sam’s lips touched his own, finding him easily in the dark. Always finding him. Always coming back to him. Samuel… his Samuel…

Dean’s lips parted when the young man’s kisses grew more desperate and he gave back as good as he got. His arms tightening around the young man and beginning a slow quest over flesh and muscle that he knew so well but certainly did not mind relearning all over again. He rolled them both over till he was on top of the younger man, pressing Sam into the mattress beneath them, and coming to rest between his legs.

“Tell me what you want.” Dean broke their kiss long enough to whisper. 

* * *

Yes, this was what he needed, Dean kissing him, holding him tight, touching him. He wanted to be under Dean, and as if the guy read his mind, Sam found himself rolled over onto his back with Dean's weight pressing over him. The pressure, the heat, the caresses, everything Sam could want or need. Dean would help him, he'd drive his demons away.

What he wanted? Sam's mind was a mess of confusion at the question. "I want... want you to tell me this is okay," he said, locking his legs around Deans' thighs and bucking up against him. "Want you to tell me this is real, not one of my fucked up dreams. Want you to _show me_ ," he said more strongly. His hands roamed over Dean's back, seeking reassurance, seeking proof he was here with him. It was illogical... it bordered on insanity, but he was afraid something was going to tear Dean away from him. Something bad.

How could a dream hold so much power over him, scare him so much even now when he was awake? So many obstacles, he couldn't be with Dean this way in the dream, but it wasn't just that. There had been an impending sense of doom, and he just couldn't get rid of it, the feeling.

He squeezed Dean's ass, almost in defiance against the dream, then brought his arms up around his shoulder and back, tugging him close. "Fuck me. Fuck me Dean. Make them go away. Make them leave me alone, please," he begged, raising his head up and thrusting his tongue into Dean's mouth in a desperate plea.

* * *

There was desperation in Sam's eyes, in his voice, that had nothing to do with arousal. The way Sam clung to him. The way the young man begged him. The way Sam needed him… Dean couldn't deny it turned him on, as much as it peaked his curiosity. What had brought this on? What had Sam dreamed that troubled him so? Who were 'them'?

Those questions could be answered later. Right now, Dean wanted to give Sam exactly what he asked for. He wanted to fuck Sam, so hard and deep that the boy would never ever doubt who he belonged to. He wanted to claim him now and forever.

When Sam practically thrust his tongue down his throat, he returned the boy's frantic kisses just as eagerly. Moaning into the young man's mouth as he began to move against his lover, his cock hardening against Sam's stomach and feeling the boy's arousal grow beside his.

Dean reached between them, grasping both of their cocks in his hand and began to stroke them together. Making them both hard. Making them both needy. Drawing forth precome from both their cocks that he used to slick his fingers with.

"This is all that's real. Right here. Right now..." Dean broke their kiss long enough to gasp. At the same time releasing their cocks and slipping his hand lower to find his lover's puckered entrance, thrusting two slick fingers deep inside Sam without preamble.

"I'm yours. You're mine. It's how it should be." He whispered, gazing into Sam's eyes as he fucked him open with his fingers.

* * *

Oh God yes, yes... this was what Sam needed. No questions, no concerned or hesitant responses, just Dean mauling him right back, kissing him until he couldn't breath, touching him, bringing their cocks together and stroking and squeezing, sending a storm of sensations through him, making it impossible for Sam to think, to dwell on his dreams, to worry. Desperate, he thrust into Dean's fist, kissing him wildly with the hunger of a man who'd lost his lover for hundreds of years and could not now let him go again. Ngh... he wanted more, needed more, but din't know how to ask. His fingers dug into Dean's back, his shoulders, tugging on him, forcing him closer, wanting all of his weight to hold him down, to secure him, to make sure he didn't float away again.

The instant Dean's lips left his, a protest broke from the back of Sam's throat. Before he insisted on more, Dean was saying all the right things. Maybe they weren't real, but it was what he needed right now. This was real, it was real. The sharp pain from the sudden penetration of his hole drew a strangled cry from him, but proved Dean's point, showed him this moment was real and not a fucked up dream.

The heat in Dean's eyes, the way he was saying they belonged to each other as his fingers stroked Sam from the inside, it was almost like a vow, a claiming. There was so much truth in the moment, so much it hurt. Sam licked his lips, his eyes squeezing shut at the jolt of pleasure from being touched just right. Opening his eyes, he started to writhe, to move against Dean's fingers, trying to take them as deep as possible.

_Love you. Want you to love me too._ The words bubbled up and he barely clamped down on them. It was crazy. It was foolish. It would scare Dean. It scared Sam too. Instead, he spoke safer words, substitutes, but no less true. "Want you. Want you inside me. Need you to show me how I'm yours." He didn't lay any claims on Dean, he was afraid to. "Fuck me Dean, right now. Please, fuck me..." he said lifting his hips and groaning.

* * *

Dean growled low and possessive in his throat when Sam declared himself to him. The demon could practically taste Sam’s soul. It was being offered to him. He could devour it right now. He could claim it for nothing but the price of a good fuck, and Dean would do that for free anyway. It was tempting. So very tempting, especially how Sam begged for it, even if he didn’t fully understand what ‘it’ was…

No.

Now was not the right time. Dean had to prepare. He had to do this right. If he put a contract on Sam’s soul now, it would be like all the others. Even if Dean did not give Sam a time limit, eventually the boy would die and his soul would go to hell. Then Sam… Samuel… would be lost to him again. That was not what Dean wanted. He wanted to keep Sam with him always. That would require some planning. It would take time to design just the right contract to keep Sam young and beautiful and by his side for all eternity… and then for Sam to agree to it. Dean was not normally so patient, but for Samuel he could be. For Samuel he would be.

Dean had no doubt he could make the boy love him enough to make him agree to anything, even once Sam knew of his true nature. Hell, the boy probably already loved him almost enough though he’d never admit it. That pleased the demon. Pleased him as much as watching the beautiful young man fucking himself on his fingers, begging for his cock. The idea of Sam loving him, really loving him, not simply lusting after him as other mortals did. His Samuel…

As much as he loved touching Sam from the inside, that tight slick heat, opening him up, Dean was just as impatient to be inside the beautiful young man as Sam was. So he quickly withdrew his fingers and grabbed the boy’s legs behind his knees and pushed them up towards Sam’s chest.

“Hold yourself open for me.” The demon commanded, waiting for Sam to do so, then licking his lips at the delicious picture Sam made. The boy looked positively wanton, so open and ready, waiting for Dean to fill him up to the hilt. Dean took himself in hand and slowly spread his own precome down his throbbing shaft then pressed the head of his dick against Sam’s tight puckered entrance. He teased them both by rubbing his dick back and forth over Sam’s sensitive skin, pushing inside a little, stretching the boy just enough to burn before withdrawing. More come leaking from his slit slicking Sam’s hole up even more.

Finally without warning he started to push inside his lover and this time he didn’t stop, sinking balls deep into the beautiful boy in one smooth motion. A low deep groan breaking from his throat once he was fully sheathed inside that exquisite heat once more.

“So good, Sam. So good.” Dean whispered, for the moment remaining exactly where he was, unmoving, filling Sam up completely. Wanting to savor it even if it tortured them both. 

* * *

Dean's snapped order cut through the haze gripping Sam, enough for him to obey and whimper as Dean teased him. "Please, please Dean," he begged, trying to force himself against Dean's tip, trying to entice him, to make him want it as bad as Sam did. "Fuck me," he gave a strangled whisper as Dean shoved every inch of his cock into him, the heat and pain making Sam arch upwards as he bit his lower lip and drew blood. "Yes," he whispered, swallowing as he tried to get used to the invasion and forced his eyes open to lock them with Dean's.

Yes, he trusted him. He'd let Dean do anything to him, anything, he knew it in this moment. The burn was intense, but exactly what Sam had needed to get rid of the remnants of the disturbing dream. Now he was with Dean. _His_ Dean. A lover not a brother. Someone in control of his destiny, not someone who lived at the whim of the weather and who worked until he broke his back. This was a fantasy, the other... a nightmare.

As his body adjusted, Sam clenched around the thick hard cock wedged deep inside him, started to enjoy the fullness and the promise of pleasure. A slight movement of his hip pushed Dean's cock up against his prostate and had Sam gasping for breath, his fingers digging into Dean's back as he gave an agonized groan. He clenched again, testing Dean, another breath of hot air leaving him at the sensations that washed through his body. "Oh God, are you teasing me?" he asked, knowing he wanted Dean to pull out and slam into him, again and again, wanted both of them to be in the grips of need, holding onto each other in desperation. Lifting his head up off the pillow, he licked Dean from the base of his throat to his chin. "Kiss me. Fuck me. Be mine."

* * *

Dean moaned at the bite of Sam's nails in the flesh of his back. The feeling of Sam's inner muscles clenching tight around his cock, almost painfully tight, was exquisite. Sam moving underneath him, as much as he could, trying to pull him deeper inside, only increased the demon's excitement. The need… it was sharp enough to cut, and he knew Sam felt it too. Dean could feel it in the way Sam trembled beneath him, he could hear it in the desperation of Sam's voice, he could see it in the boy's pleading eyes.

"Maybe…" Dean whispered in answer to Sam's soft question, a chuckle in his tone. Maybe he was teasing them both. Maybe it was cruel, but it was so good that Dean didn't care.

Then Sam was begging again, well, more like demanding. The young man's breath hot against his skin and his tongue even hotter. Dean growled softly in answer, tilting his head down to catch the young man's bloodied lip between his own. Sucking softly on the wound Dean moaned at the taste of Sam's blood as he started to move.

His hands braced on either side of the boy's head for leverage Dean drew out till only the tip of his cock remained in his lover's body then filled Sam up again slowly. Rolling his hips Dean brushed the head of his cock against that sweet spot of pleasure deep inside Sam over and over. Yes, he wanted to torture Sam. He wanted to make the boy burn with need. He wanted to make Sam insane with pleasure.

Dean's teeth caught the boy's already swollen lip and bit sharply, opening the small cut Sam had made even wider as he gave a sharp deep thrust that rocked the whole bed. From then on Dean fucked the boy fast and hard, always aiming for Sam's prostate with lethal precision. The taste of the boy's blood as much an aphrodisiac as the pleasure mingled with pain. He never stopped kissing Sam as he fucked him. Giving the boy exactly what he asked for.

Giving Sam himself, the demon… and the man.

* * *

As Dean lifted up, pulling part way out of him and sucking his lip ever so gently, he thought Dean was going to deny him what he needed, what he'd begged for. Maybe Dean didn't want him like that, hard and fast. Maybe he didn't like being asked for something specific. Or maybe he was going to tease for a little while longer. Despite the insecurities plaguing him, the desperate need to get his way in this drove him to writhe, and pull on Dean, demanding with his body what he couldn't with his now engaged mouth. _Gimme me what I need. Please. Fuck me, fuck me._ Just as he tried to free his mouth, Dean's teeth closed around his lip and bit down hard.

The shock of pain had Sam coming up off the mattress at the same moment Dean drove into him, pinning him back down. Pain and desire mingled, made him shudder with pleasure, confusing him. His mind wanted to question his body's reaction, but in a split second Dean was fucking him with such force, sending such heat spiraling through his body with every brutal thrust of his hips, that Sam stopped caring about the reasons this felt good, and right, and so damned hot. Locking his legs around Dean's waist, he bucked up against his lover with a wild abandonment that matched Dean's. There was no pain, no fear, no question, just answers, the only answer. _Dean. Dean. Dean._

The way Dean was riding his prostate had kept Sam on the very edge, bolts of electric current shooting straight to his aching cock now leaking steadily against Dean's stomach. Sam moaned wantonly, giving Dean everything, meeting him thrust for thrust, kissing him between harsh gasps for air. The pressure building inside intensified, consumed him with need. Harder. Faster. More. "Dean... fuck... Dean," he gave a muffled oath against Dean's mouth as he tried to hang on another moment, tried to keep it going, to never give this up. "Ah... Dean!" he shouted, his fingers biting into Dean's shoulder and sweat slicked back as he stiffened and came with blinding force, wet hot ropes of come spreading between across his and Dean's stomachs as he clenched his inner muscles around Dean's cock, determined to take Dean over the edge with him.

* * *

Dean held nothing back and Sam didn’t ask him to. Sam took everything Dean gave him, pleasure and pain, and begged for more. It was wild, it was dirty, it was rough, and it was so damned perfect Dean never wanted it to end.

The demon growled low in his throat when he felt the tightening of Sam’s muscles around his cock, feeling the hard throbbing length of his dick like a brand against his stomach leaking and he knew the boy was close. He kissed Sam hard, swallowing his moans of pleasure, and their teeth clashed as they shared breath and blood. Dean broke the brutal kiss only at the last moment, staring down at Sam’s flushed and sweaty face, wanting to watch his lover come undone.

It was beautiful. Hearing Sam’s unrestrained cries of pleasure, his name shouted in such pleasure it could be mistaken for pain. Feeling the young man tighten around him like a vice and his skin break beneath Sam’s nails as his lover raked them down his back and shoulder. The scent of blood mingled with the scent of the young man’s release spilled like liquid fire between their bodies.

Dean thrust hard and deep one final time into the beautiful willing body beneath him and his own shout of pleasure mingled with Sam’s. His cock pulsed deep inside his young lover, filling Sam’s abused body with his seed. His thrusts slowed, gentled, but he never stopped moving, drawing out their pleasure for as long as possible.

“Beautiful…” Dean whispered, all the while his eyes never leaving the young man’s face. His fingers ghosting slowly, lovingly, over his lover’s quivering muscles through the moist trails of sweat and come on Sam’s skin. He smiled at the clench of Sam’s stomach under his palms, the way the boy’s nipples were so hard and sensitive Sam’s whole body quivered when he touched them.

He brought his damp fingers up to the young man’s mouth and brushed them over Sam’s swollen lower lip, immediately leaning down to lick away the taste of sweat, come, and blood. 

* * *

Every inch of his skin was so damned sensitive that he was still reacting to Dean's touches. Panting hard, he licked Dean's finger, then found his own lip being licked and sucked on once again. He gave a tired smile, arms still tight around Dean. "You're just what I needed. I'm not sorry I woke you up." Lifting his head, he kissed Dean, though his lips were swollen and sore. He couldn't think on what he'd look like in the morning, but he had a feeling there would be no hiding the ravaging of his mouth and body. He already hurt, and he was gonna hurt more tomorrow.

"Stay like this? Just a little while," he asked, wanting to keep Dean's weight on him, proof this was real, and not just another crazy dream. "I don't want you to leave me until I fall asleep." He shifted a little so Dean could get comfortable, then nuzzled his throat, licking it and tasting salt. "I might just stop jogging and do this instead, to keep in shape." He managed a laugh, though he was still gasping for breath. "G'night. I don't think I'll wake you up again." He pressed his mouth against Dean's damp flesh to prevent himself from telling him he thought he might love him. It was the afterglow of sex, he told himself, and tomorrow he'd see clearly again. A man he could totally fall for, but would proceed with caution with. Besides, Dean wouldn't be interested in an exclusive relationship, of that, Sam was sure. The little ache he felt in his heart, it would go away. It had to.

* * *

Morning had come too soon. Sam ached everywhere. He grit his teeth together as he rolled out of bed and crept out of the room, letting Dean sleep. The hot shower helped his aching muscles so, but stung his cut lip like hell. Looking in the mirror, he saw his swollen mouth and the bruise on his throat and felt like he looked thoroughly fucked out. God if anyone saw him...

Slowly, he made his way out of the bathroom and finished dressing in the living room. In the kitchen. He started going through the cabinets until he found one with some pain meds and immediately took four of them with water. The way he felt, with the aches and pain, and his hole raw and his lips sore, if Dean came out of the bedroom door, he was liable to tell him to keep his dick the hell away from him. At least that was before Sam had his coffee.

Later, he set his lap top up at the dining room table, and pulled one of the chairs from the living room over. At least it had thicker pillows and felt better on his ass than the dining room chairs. Once he started getting into his homework, he mostly forgot about the pain, though every time he moved it was a different story. After his homework, he might need to do some research into ways to ease this type of pain. He was sure it would happen again, that once he forgot how it felt, he'd be right there, demanding Dean fuck him hard.

He was almost done with making changes to his draft when he heard the door open. A moment later, he turned around to look at Dean. It wasn't fair, the man looked perfect. Maybe his lips were swollen just a little, but he didn't look as ravaged as Sam. "Mornin'." He was a little embarrassed about the chair, and tried not to show how uncomfortable he was sitting down. But something told him Dean knew exactly how he was feeling, and that made him flush even more.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the sleepy sated look in Sam’s eyes and laugh at the young man’s words.

“I’m not sorry either.” He replied, not that he’d actually been sleeping, but he wasn’t sorry Sam had woken up. Though Dean was still a little curious what exactly had woken his young lover and what had brought all of this on, his curiosity could wait.

The demon kissed the young man again gently and nodded slightly at Sam’s request. Dean had no intention of moving any time soon. He loved the feeling of Sam’s warm body, flushed warm and sweaty from their lovemaking beneath him, Sam still holding him inside of him even though Dean had gone soft.

“That can certainly be arranged.” Dean commented with a soft chuckle. He didn’t think he had gotten quite a workout himself in a while, it wasn’t often a mortal could give him a run for his money. Usually it took several humans to truly sate his desires, whether they be for the pleasures of flesh or blood.

But with Sam he felt truly sated. He desired no other.

Dean brushed his lips gently over the young man’s hairline and relaxed where he was, watching the boy drift off back to sleep. It was a long time before the demon finally moved, gently withdrawing from the young man’s body and examining his handiwork. Sam was going to be hurting tomorrow that much was certain. In fact he’d be surprised if the boy could sit straight for a week.

While he was partly amused by that thought he certainly didn’t want to wait a week before he could fuck Sam again, so he would do what he could to ease the boy’s discomfort… later. A little suffering was good for the soul, after all.

*

Though Dean hadn’t planned on falling asleep that night fucking Sam had left him so relaxed and spent he’d eventually drifted off without meaning to. When he woke up he was definitely more than a little disappointed that Sam was not spooned in front of him like he’d been when Dean had fallen asleep. Of course he remembered how Sam had left him the first time they’d fucked and barely stopped himself from jumping out of bed and shouting for the boy.

But then he smelled coffee and thought he heard the sound of the tapping of keys on a keyboard and remembered how Sam had said he was bringing his homework over to finish. Dean chuckled softly and rolled over onto his back, slowly stretching. He felt the sting along his shoulder and back where Sam’s nails had removed a few layers of skin, and even though the demon could have encouraged the small wounds to heal almost instantly he decided to keep them. He liked the evidence of how Sam had clung to him last night.

After some time Dean got up and went to take a quick shower, since showing up to breakfast covered in dry come wasn’t very polite. He would have liked to shower with Sam but since the young man had obviously already taken one maybe they could save that for another morning. Once he was finished he ran a hand through his still damp hair and pulled on his black silk pajama bottoms that Sam liked so much.

Dean couldn’t help but smile when he walked into his living area and saw how carefully the boy was sitting on one of his more plush chairs. Seeing the blush staining the young man’s cheeks when Sam looked at him only made the demon smile more.

“Good morning.” Dean replied, walking up behind Sam and leaning over him to press a soft kiss to the side of his neck. He would have loved to continue nuzzling the young man’s neck and maybe work his way up to Sam’s lips but something in the boy’s body language said he needed a little space so Dean decided to give it to him.

“I’m going to make some breakfast. I hope you’re hungry, I know I am.” Dean said, then pulling away he started for his kitchen, making sure that Sam could see his back on the way there. 

* * *

Dean's soft kiss, and his hot breath skimming his neck had Sam closing his eyes for a moment. He liked being held and touched by Dean, he just wasn't up for anything else today, the way he was hurting. Then Dean walked past him, those too damned hot black silk pajama pants riding low on his ass and Sam's marks across his back, and something in Sam's gut tightened. Hell no, he was not going there, he firmly decided, although he was already fantasizing about pulling Dean's pants down and touching him all over.

Drawing in a sharp breath, he almost apologized for the savage red scratches, but the more he thought about it, the more he figured Dean should share some of the pain. Maybe that was a little bitchy, but it was how he felt.

The Dean had gone around the counter in the kitchen and was looking at him. "Yeah, I'm hungry. Cereal is fine, though. I mean you don't have to make anything," he offered with a soft smile. One really good thing was that he wasn't detecting any 'morning after awkwardness.' Maybe he'd expected it a little. "I'm almost done with homework, just have finalize my paper and send this baby in." He looked down and started to type, though he asked almost under his breath, "did you sleep well? I mean after I..." He still couldn't believe how he'd woken Dean for sex, it was just so... not him. Or maybe it had taken someone like Dean to bring his real self out? Ugh, this was probably a puzzle he really shouldn't try to work out, it would drive him crazy and might not even have an answer.

* * *

Dean looked at Sam over the counter and laughed softly as he washed his hands in the sink even though he’d already taken a shower.

“Well, what if I want to make something?” Dean asked, arching an eyebrow then winking at the young man. With that he went over to the fridge and started taking out the fixings he’d need to make omelets. After the ham, cheese, mushrooms, and onions were set on the counter he got out his mixing bowl, cracked a few eggs inside it and poured in some milk. A trick he’d learned to make the eggs fluffier. Then he started to whisk the eggs together as he turned to look back at Sam.

“That’s good; have anything else planned for the rest of the day?” He asked casually. Dean didn’t want Sam to leave, that much was a given, but if the boy needed to be elsewhere today it wasn’t as though he could insist Sam stay. Well, he could, but that would probably end badly. Sam was not ready for that yet, but hopefully the boy would be soon.

Dean mixed some cheese into the eggs and got out a pan which he put on the stove then poured some of the egg mixture into it. He took out a second pan as well for the rest of the ingredients and started chopping up the ham, mushrooms, and onions, adding them to the second pan to cook when he was finished. That done, Dean went to the freezer and took out some bacon and sausage, the boy might have only wanted cereal but the demon was planning on going all out. He got the bacon and sausages cooking, flipped the eggs, then got some bread down to start toasting.

“I did, very well.” The demon admitted to Sam’s soft question. He could tell the boy was embarrassed by his own question and he couldn’t help but smile at that. Well, Sam was going to love this then.

“You know, if you want I have something that might help, if you’re feeling a little… sore… this morning.” Dean remarked almost offhandedly as he flipped the eggs yet again. They were nearly done. So were the bacon, toast, and sausage which he transferred to a plate. Once the eggs were done he filled them up with the cooked fixings, flipped it in half, and then added it to the plate as well. Dean brought the heaping plate over to the young man and set it down beside his computer.

* * *

"Nah, after I'm done, I'm all yours. I mean, if you want to hang out or do something," he offered with a grin. He watched Dean work in the kitchen and couldn't help being impressed. The guy just made everything seem easy as he efficiently made their breakfast. How long had it been since Sam had eaten a home made breakfast? "Ever see the 'naked chef' on TV? I think you'd do a lot better he said, "I'd freaking tape your show."

He went back to his homework, wanting to be done before breakfast was ready and by the looks of things, it meant he had to hurry. It was hard, but he blocked Dean out of his mind and just pretended he was at the library or in his room, and pounded away on the keyboard. After signing his name to his paper, he hit the 'upload' button, held his breath, then released it when the document was accepted. He was clicking out of the school site when Dean offered a remedy for his soreness.

Blushing a deep red all the way to the roots of his hair, Sam's face jerked around toward Dean. Luckily the guy wasn't looking at him, and probably didn't get how embarrassed Sam was about this. "Oh I'm fine, you don't have to worry about that... me." Licking his lips, he shut down the lap top and gingerly stood up. Yeah, like Dean wasn't going to notice. Now he just felt foolish on top of embarrassed, especially when Dean came over and set his breakfast down next to his lap top.

"Wow..." Sam pushed the computer away and felt his mouth water at the smell of the bacon and sausage right under his nose. He snagged a bacon and when Dean brought his own breakfast over, cleared his throat. "Hypothetically speaking, if someone _were_ sore, how could you make it better? I mean for future reference," he licked his lips. Both of them knew he was lying, and he wasn't even sure why he felt the need to keep up the pretense because Dean would know the truth the moment he made any advances and Sam was pretty sure that if they spent a whole day together, that would come.

* * *

All his, Dean definitely liked the sound of that. Now he just had to figure out exactly what he wanted to do with the young man. Well, the demon knew what he would have loved to do with Sam, but the boy probably wasn’t up for that just yet. Despite Sam’s claims that he was fine he could see just how carefully the boy was sitting. Dean didn’t say anything about it however, despite how entertaining he found Sam’s obvious embarrassment.

Dean quickly finished making his own breakfast and joined Sam at the table, smiling as he watched the boy dig into the food, obviously enjoying it. He had never been much of a cook during his mortal life. Samuel usually insisted on doing it. Dean had cooked of course, and did so often especially when his brother was ill and couldn’t, but it was never anything fancy. Not that and omelet was all that fancy but Dean had learned quite a few skills over his long life… skills that didn’t have to do with dismembering… He would have to plan and cook something fancy and romantic for the young man sometimes soon.

Then again, maybe Dean should stick to things like hamburgers, at least for a little while. Sometimes the boy almost seemed intimidated by him, his money, and he didn’t want to appear to be showing off. Sam seemed very down to earth and he wanted the boy to see him as just a regular guy… well, as regular a guy as a demon could be.

When Sam asked his ‘hypothetical’ question, Dean couldn’t help but grin slightly at the young man as he answered.

“Well, I have some desensitizing cream that you can use. It has a mild anesthetic in it. It should help to take the edge off. There’s no reason to be embarrassed, you know. I know I was rough and you’re not all that used to this yet.”

* * *

Sam kept his gaze firmly on his plate as he forked the omelette. The ointment sounded good but even if Dean was trying to help, he had to admit the fact he said it shouldn't be embarrassing had Sam even more embarrassed. He felt Dean's eyes on him as he chewed, and he knew he was being silly. If he could wake the guy up to demand sex, he should damn well be able to talk about the consequences. But maybe it was that what happened in the dark when his hormones were going nuts was different from what happened in the light of day.

He licked his lips and took another bite of bacon, then looked up and met Dean's eyes. "I'll try it. And I dunno if you were the one being rough cause I remember not being real gentle myself," he gave a small smile. "Hope you're not sore in _awkward places_."

Once the words left him, he was able to relax. It hadn't been bad, and there was nothing like humor to make something less awkward.

He talked a little about his homework, then laughed. "I know, I know, I'm boring you. Don't worry, my school friends hate it when I talk about school and papers too. Unless they need help studying, then they're hanging onto every word," he rolled his eyes. "So what are we going to do today? Hang out here? Go out? Or, you know, if you have any work errands, I don't mind tagging along, I can keep outta the way."

Lifting his mug, he took a sip of his coffee. "Am I talking too much?" It wasn't his fault he was a morning person, but he'd heard his 'bright eyed and busytailed' ways could be irritating to those who liked to work their way up to conversation, after waking.

* * *

Well, at least the young man was sensible enough not to refuse his offered help when he obviously needed it, even if Sam was obviously still embarrassed talking about it. He supposed he couldn’t really blame the boy. Then Sam surprised him by teasing him about how rough the young man had been with him, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh.

“Not too awkward.” The demon admitted with a smile. He wondered what Sam would think if Dean told him he liked having the young man’s marks on him. More than likely Sam would think he was a freak and run away from him as fast as he could. Then again, Sam was the one to ask for it rough last night, so maybe the boy would surprise him.

As Dean listened to Sam talk he couldn’t help but compare the young man sitting across from him to his long dead brother. Sometimes Sam seemed so very like Samuel, almost to the point Dean could barely tell them apart, but at the same time Sam was also very different.

Sometimes Sam seemed so innocent, much like his brother had been, but this Sam was more care free than his brother ever was. His Samuel had always been plagued by so many worries, despite how Dean tried to take all their burdens on his own shoulders. Then of course there was the difference that this Sam was a strong, healthy, young man where his brother had often been sickly and so very frail. His brother Samuel would never have been able to endure the roughness Dean had displayed last night.

If Sam truly was his brother’s soul reborn there had to be a way to make him remember his former life. Dean enjoyed this boy, this Sam, very much but he wanted his brother back. He wanted Samuel to remember him. He needed his Samuel. He would need to investigate, try to find ways to jog his brother’s memory.

“I like listening to you talk.” Dean replied when Sam began apologizing for talking too much. He thought for a moment how to answer Sam’s question of what they could do today, then smiled. “Are you up for a drive?”

* * *

For a second, it seemed like Dean was looking at him speculatively. Sam almost expected him to say something important or surprising but when all he did was ask if he wanted to go on a drive, he decided he must have been imagining the look.

"Sure, I'm definitely up for that. Where we going?" he asked, curiosity lighting up his eyes. "Oh wait, I think you like surprising me." That's the sense he'd gotten last night, when Dean had fixed the bathroom up with all those candles and then called him in. "It's okay, I can wait, or, you know, I'll just start pestering you when I can't wait any longer." Dean might laugh at his threat but when it came to mysteries, Sam wasn't very patient.

They talked for a little while longer, then Sam cleared the plates and washed them. When he was done, he came back and standing behind Dean, put his arms around him, bent down slowly, and kissed the side of his throat. "Thanks for breakfast. It was really good and it's not everyday that I find someone to cook for me." Smiling against Dean's soft skin, he breathed in his scent. God, if they hadn't gone that last round, he would be up for some sexing. Damn this man, he was like a drug. Irresistible.

"So, maybe you can give me your magic ah... you know, cream and I'll take care of that while you get ready." It was easier talking about it when they weren't looking into each others' eyes. Sam decided this had been stroke of genius, and he was known for those every once in a while.

* * *

Breakfast had been quite nice if Dean said so himself. After he’d finished with his plate he’d been a little surprised when the young man took the dishes into the kitchen and began washing them, but Dean couldn’t complain. Washing dishes wasn’t exactly at the top of his list of favorite things to do. So he remained at the table finishing his coffee and reading the paper until Sam returned.

He smiled when the young man wrapped his arms around him from behind and Dean leaned back in the chair into the loose embrace. The light kiss to his neck made him smile even more.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Dean replied, reaching back to let his fingers play gently in Sam’s soft hair while the young man nuzzled against his neck. A warm chuckle left his throat when Sam asked him for his ‘magic’ cream.

Well, that was one option. Or…

“Or, I could help you with it, you know. Might make things more fun.” Dean offered with a devilish grin. He had no idea if the young man would accept his offer though, given how embarrassed the boy was even talking about his little problem. His offer might just make the young man spontaneously combust from blushing so much. 

* * *

Dean's offer had Sam sucking his breath in, tensing and feeling a flush of heat warm his cheeks and ears. Hell no, he didn't want Dean looking there. If it hurt so bad, he wasn't sure how it would look. Plus it was one thing to touch and play with him for fun... for sex, and another for 'medical' reasons. "N..no, I'm good. I can handle it myself," he said, burying his face into Dean's throat and staying there for a moment as he drew in deep lungfuls of the man's intoxicating scent.

When he thought his color might have normalized, he moved his mouth to Dean's and kissed him lightly, then straightened. "Come on Mr. Sexy, get dressed before you have me changing my mind and wanting to stay in." If anyone could do it, it was Dean. "So damned tempting," he muttered under his breath as he walked toward the bedroom to get away from Dean's 'sphere of influence.'

He cleared his throat when he reached the bedroom door. "If you tell me where it is and what it's called, I can... I can get it." And no, he was not going to think about the fact that Dean having such a cream around meant he'd had to take care of other partners. He wasn't gonna be jealous. He wasn't gonna. It was a mantra he kept repeating as he watched Dean from under his lashes.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at the young man’s refusal of his help, especially since the demon could actually feel the intense heat that had rushed to the boy’s face at his offer. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, Dean felt his dick twitch just at the thought of what must be going through Sam’s head right now. His dick getting hard just imagining his fingers, slick with ointment, far up the boy’s red abused hole, Sam’s cheeks just as red with embarrassment as Dean played with him.

Thinking of the boy’s embarrassment was a rather intense aphrodisiac; then again maybe it had more to do with corrupting Sam’s innocence. Dean enjoyed that thought, corrupting Sam a little at a time. Just enough that he could still make Sam blush like he was now when Dean suggested doing something dirty, but Sam would still agree to it.

“Suit yourself.” He replied, turning his head to accept Sam’s kiss, still grinning a little, but letting the boy draw away for now. He watched Sam walk away towards the bedroom, noting that the way the boy was walking Sam was definitely going to need more than that ointment if he was going to be up for any of the fun Dean had planned later. Maybe in a few hours Dean would start healing the boy a bit, but right now the demon was enjoying too much the careful way Sam moved from being fucked so hard. Knowing the boy could probably still feel every inch of him like he was still deep inside of him…

“It’s in the bathroom under the sink. A white tube with red lettering, called desensitizing cream, can’t miss it.” Dean told the boy as he got up from the table and followed Sam. It was his bedroom after all, and that’s where his clothes were. He passed by the boy hovering in the doorway and went to his closet. Dropping his pajama bottoms without any apparent modesty and tossing them over to the bed before he started picking out the clothes he was going to wear today. 

* * *

Sam's heart leaped when Dean was suddenly in his space. For a moment, he thought the guy might insist on helping him, but he let out a breath when Dean merely moved to the closet and told him where he could get the desensitizing cream. The thing of it was, before he headed for the bathroom, Dean was dropping his pants, letting the silk pajama bottom slide right down before stepping out of it.

His mouth went dry at the sight. No, it wasn't like he hadn't seen Dean before. He had, and yeah, Dean had a way of affecting him every time. But this was a little different. Dean wasn't trying to get him to look and wasn't trying to show off his body or anything. He was just casually looking for clothes and had no idea how he was making Sam feel. There was something very sexy about that, about a man who had no hangups, who was confident enough to just walk around bare-assed and be comfortable in his own skin.

Dragging his gaze off Dean's ass, Sam slowly dragged it upwards, watching Dean's muscles shift as he moved. His gaze lingered on Dean's nipples, his mouth tingling at the thought of just walking up to him and sucking on it. His stomach muscles tensed and he got a little breathless, but aside from not wanting to look foolish, he had a real worry. It would never stop with a little kissing and touching, and he really was too damned sore to do anything more. It would get awkward when he had to refuse.

Licking his lips, he walked backwards to the bathroom door, his gaze trained on Dean and his heart pounding a little faster than normal.

* * *

Dean could feel Sam’s eyes on him but he pretended not to notice. Not even letting his lips quirk though he was definitely amused the longer the young man simply stood and stared at him.

It seemed the boy was a bit of a voyeur after all. He liked to watch, maybe even liked being watched, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Of course Dean was recalling when he’d fucked Sam right there in the not so private balcony of Dante’s. Dean would have to remember that and consider further ways to test his theory. Maybe Sam would enjoy a strip tease, or Dean feeling him up in the middle of a crowded restaurant. He would have plenty of opportunities where he was taking Sam today.

In the mean time the demon went about his own business of choosing something to wear, eventually pulling out a pair of well worn jeans and a simple button down shirt, while letting the boy look for as long as he might like. When he turned he was not surprised to see that Sam was still looking at him, though the boy had migrated closer towards the bathroom at least.

Dean smiled at Sam and dropped his clothes on the edge of the bed as he walked slowly towards the young man. When he reached him his arms slipped around the boy’s waist and he pulled Sam flush with his body, leaning in to give the young man a deep slow kiss. Slipping his tongue into the boy’s mouth and exploring every inch carefully, coaxing Sam’s tongue to play with his own.

After a few intense minutes Dean finally let the young man come up for air.

“You know…” Dean whispered, still so close his breath ghosted lightly over the young man’s sensitive lips. “If you want to make out, all you have to do is ask.”

* * *

Sam was a little mortified at being caught staring so wantonly at Dean. He started to formulate an excuse but before he said even a word, he found himself in Dean's strong arms, being pulled tight against him. Dean's body heat seeped right through the jeans Sam was wearing and he could feel every contour of Dean's bare body against his. Just as he breathed out a soft puff of air, Dean's mouth descended over his own, and there was no way Sam could think anymore.

He closed his own arms around Dean, running his palms down Dean's lower back, over his smooth firm ass, and back as he moaned against his lover's lips. So good, Dean tasted and felt so good inside his mouth. He started to chase Dean's tongue, twisting his own around Dean's and swaying closer as he started to get a little dizzy. It wasn't only the lack of air, it was just he seemed to get lightheaded every time Dean kissed him.

When he felt like Dean was going to break the kiss, he brought one hand up to the back of Dean's neck in protest, pulling him closer and kissing him back harder. God did this man know how to kiss, how to make the world stand still. Another moan broke from him as Dean broke the kiss to let him take a breath. Their lips still touched though and every movement of their lips as they spoke made their lips brush together.

"I think...." he let out a few heated breaths, sucked on Dean's lower lip, and tilted his head back. "Problem with that is, I think I'm kinda hooked on this... on our make out sessions. I mean, I could do this forever." He meant it, but he was also pretty sure Dean would never go for that. After a while, it would always lead to stripping and... "I know, you're thinking 'just a kid.' I just never... it's new to me. I don't mean kissing," he felt the heat rise to his cheeks again and cursed himself. "I mean to feel like this." His hand wandered over Dean's ass, and even though he was a little self conscious with the room being bright, and Dean looking into his eyes, he caressed him, touched him how he wanted.

* * *

Dean loved the feeling of Sam’s fingers moving so boldly over his body and the demon decided the only thing wrong with this picture was that the boy was wearing too much clothing. While he knew he couldn’t fuck Sam again, unless he wanted to hurt the young man which he didn’t, there was still plenty they _could_ do and Dean was looking forward to showing his lover everything.

He let his own hands wander along the length of Sam’s back, first over his shirt and then under it. His fingers tracing over the well defined muscles of the boy’s shoulders and back, down to the waistband of his jeans. The boy was like a beautiful package just waiting to be unwrapped.

The demon smiled at the young man’s stammering and that adorable blush painted across his cheeks and down his neck. Dean decided he’d had enough of seeing Sam blush from embarrassment however. Now he wanted to see Sam’s skin painted with the blush of passion. He also wanted to see much more skin.

“We can do this as long as you want, whenever you want. But that’s not what I was thinking.” Dean replied softly, his fingertips dipping underneath the back of Sam’s jeans and underwear, roaming slowly over the firm contours of the boy’s ass. “I was thinking how nice it would be to strip you down and suck you off right here and now.” 

* * *

Each time Dean's fingertips dipped below the waistline of his jeans, heat spiraled straight to Sam's cock. He wished he wasn't hurting, that they could fuck, that he could bend over or let Dean touch him there. He pressed closer, trying to find a little satisfaction and wishing Dean's mouth was back on his.

Just as he started to sway toward Dean, ready to take him up on his offer to kiss whenever Sam wanted, Dean told him what was on his mind. Something a lot less innocent that Sam was thinking, but once the image of Dean's mouth wrapped tight around his cock took hold, there was nothing Sam could do to get it out of his head. "You're evil," he huffed, licking his lips. "Okay, maybe we should or I'll be... you know... hard all the way to wherever we're going. I think I have a tendency to be crabby when I'm horny." He'd been very irritable and had snapped at his friends during the time he'd been dreaming of Dean, wanting him, but keeping away from him.

As Dean's hands roamed over his ass under his jeans and pulled the material even tighter against his straining cock, Sam gave a soft pained moan. His hands drifted to the button of his jeans and he popped it open, then pulled his zipper down. He didn't push the jeans down though, he'd come to realize that when Dean said he wanted to strip him, he meant it. Standing in the door frame, Sam gripped the frame with each hand above his head.

Leaning forward, he stole another kiss from Dean, sucking his lower lip a little harder than he intended. He bit back an apology when he saw only heat in Dean's eyes, not anger or pain, or any objection. It looked like Dean really didn't mind it rough, going either way.

* * *

Evil… Sam had no idea. But at least this time his 'evilness' was of the variety Dean was sure Sam would like very much. If the stiffening the demon felt of Sam's trapped cock was anything to go by the boy liked the idea very much.

Dean chuckled warmly, squeezing Sam's ass enticingly and moving just enough to allow the young man to open his jeans when he felt the boy's hands slip between their bodies. When the young man's hands then went to grip the top of the door frame, Dean's breath hitched at the erotic image Sam made. The boy had absolutely no idea what he was doing to him…

The demon moaned deeply into the hard passionate kiss Sam gifted him with and he knew when the boy pulled back to look in his eyes his lust was obvious. Dean didn't even bother to hide it, licking his lips as his eyes raked down the boy's body from head to toe.

"Well, we certainly can't have you bitchy today, now can we?" Dean said with another soft chuckle. His gaze lingering on the young man's tented underwear from his open jeans, before his eyes found Sam's eyes again.

"Don't move." The demon ordered as his hands slipped out from under Sam's jeans to grasp the hem of the young man's shirt. He pulled the front of it up and over the back of his neck but leaving Sam's arms bound, then smiling and giving the young man another brief but firm kiss, the demon dropped to his knees.

His hands immediately went to the young man's waist; one steadying on Sam's hip while the other began to palm the young man's cock through his underwear. Dean licked his lips, watching through hooded eyes while he stroked and squeezed the young man. Feeling Sam harden to the point where the thin material began to grow damp and barely contained the beautiful thick cock.

Then in one quick motion Dean grabbed the waistband of Sam's jeans and underwear and tugged both down to the middle of the young man's thighs, freeing his cock. Still watching the boy's every movement, Dean leaned in to lick the head of the young man's dick. Playful teasing flicks of his tongue to the sensitive slit and swirling around the crown. The boy's cock now weeping so much it practically painted his lips with precum, which Dean then licked away letting Sam watch.

Finally gripping Sam's hips hard, just in case the young man's knees started to buckle, Dean took the boy's cock into his mouth. Sucking hard and swallowing Sam all the way down with an obscene groan of pleasure.

* * *

Sam couldn't help but be surprised each time something he did drew a reaction from Dean, like the deep moan that broke from him when Sam kissed him, It never failed to make his heart clench, or a thrill run through him. Maybe he was a little in awe of the fact that held this type of power over someone, especially someone like Dean who was obviously very experienced and who had the pick of partners. It was hard to believe he'd been the one Dean picked, and maybe the sounds and reactions the guy gave him would one day help him to accept it, to believe this.

The heat in Dean's eyes was scorching hot and unapologetic. Sam literally felt his flesh tingle as Dean's gaze traveled down his body and back up. He couldn't even muster up a return smile and felt himself getting harder when Dean focused on his groin. His shorts did nothing to hide the outline of his cock and he knew Dean missed nothing, that he'd noticed the shorts were already wet with precum.

Dean's order that he stay still had Sam looking up abruptly, his breath catching in his throat for absolutely no reason he could fathom. All he knew was his cock twitched at the exact moment Dean spoke, and now he was aching and needy and he wasn't so sure he could stay just like this.

His shirt was suddenly pulled over his head and hung around his arms. Just like that, one look from Dean and Sam felt his nipples tightening. He was just licking his lips when Dean leaned in and kissed him. Sam immediately sucked Dean's tongue inside his mouth, kissing him back with everything he had, and wondering whether Dean really meant it when he told him not to move. He wanted to touch Dean, to pull him close, to hold him.

The kiss was over too quickly and left Sam gasping for air. Then Dean dropped to his knees and Sam's heart stuttered in his chest. His nostrils flared as he watched Dean, the heat in the other man's eyes catching Sam on fire.

Dean's touches over his shorts made Sam's knees go weak. But Dean must have known, he must have anticipated, because he was holding him in place as he continued to rub his hand over Sam's aching cock. "Oh God... Dean..." He kept his grip on the door frame, but couldn't help stepping slightly closer to Dean, needing his mouth around his cock.

Finally, he was freed from his shorts and there was a long thirty seconds of tension where Sam was pleading with his eyes, begging to be touched. It was like Dean was waiting for something, but Sam didn't know what. A soft, pained groan left him, and then Dean was touching him again. He couldn't help but watch Dean's tongue sweep over his cock, watch and cry out softly as Dean teased him, tonguing his slit over and over until his precum was drizzling over Dean's lips. Sam's gaze moved lower, down Dean's naked body to his hard cock, and back up to his teasing mouth.

"Fuck... Dean please," he begged, thrusting almost involuntarily toward Dean's mouth. When Dean took him, took all of him, every inch down his mouth and throat and made a sound that would make the biggest porn star jealous, Sam responded with a similar cry. How wet heat engulfed his cock at last, and then the vacuum from Dean sucking on him sent intense sensations pulsing through him. Thank God Dean was holding him, holding his thighs in place, because Sam wasn't sure he wouldn't have just dropped down and fucked Dean's mouth right there.

Then Dean was moving his mouth up and down his shaft and Sam could barely think anymore. All he knew was he was burning up, heat pooling in his stomach. It got hotter and hotter, and it was ten times worse when he looked down and caught sight of Dean's lips wrapped tightly around him. Groaning, he clutched at the door frame, his knuckles whitening as he unsuccessfully fought to keep still. "I... I can't..." he apologized as he started to thrust into Dean's mouth, his head rolling back when his cock hit the back of Dean's throat.

Sure, the movements made him hurt elsewhere, but it was just a reminder of how deep Dean had been inside him last night. As deep as Sam was in Dean's throat right now. There was something vaguely dirty about his thoughts, but he couldn't bar them, anymore than he could control his thrusting. "Yeah... oh God yeah, Dean," he bit his lower lip, trying to regain some control over his body.

* * *

Dean’s eyes never closed. He watched delighted through hooded lashes as the beautiful young man in front of him came undone. Sam’s eyes glazed with pleasure, his mouth open, and the most beautiful needy sounds spilling from his lips. A flush of pleasure running down the boy’s neck and chest, his nipples tight and begging to be played with. Dean would have loved to accommodate them, and would have, if his attention wasn’t currently focused elsewhere. Focused on the thick hard cock thrusting down his throat.

The demon hummed in approval, relaxing his throat to take every inch of the young man no matter how hard Sam thrust his hips. Dean didn’t try to restrain him, in fact encouraging Sam. His hands moving from the young man’s hips to his ass, squeezing the firm cheeks and pulling Sam even harder forward.

Beautiful… so beautiful…

Dean’s own cock was so hard he ached, the tip dripping cum yet he didn’t touch himself. For the moment completely focused on Sam and his pleasure. If the boy wasn’t already so raw Dean would have already had his fingers up the young man’s ass. Fucking Sam with three, maybe even four fingers, while the boy fucked his mouth. Delicious pain mingled with pleasure. He was tempted, very tempted, but considering he wanted the boy to be able to walk today the demon decided against it.

Another day when Sam didn’t have to walk for a week or so, Dean would consider it again. For now the demon simply concentrated on giving the young man the best damned blowjob of his life. 

* * *

Dean was... he was amazing. Sam's eyes kept flicking between the sight of his cock moving in and out of Dean's mouth and Dean's eyes which never seemed to waver from looking up at him. Waves of heat rolled through him and had him practically bucking and thrusting into Dean's mouth no matter how hard he tried to control his action. Each time he gripped the door frame hard, his muscle bunched and flexed. His arms strained, only because he was doing his damnedest not to touch Dean, not to pull him closer, not to go against his order not to move. "So hot ... so fucking hot, Dean..." he rasped, his breaths coming out in harsh gasps.

When Dean started sucking on him harder, the wet heat of his mouth sheathing Sam's cock, tightening around him, Sam thought he was going to go crazy with pleasure. He started to pump his cock more frantically into Dean's mouth, moans breaking from him faster and faster, closer together as the pressure built, and built. It was so good, so intense, he could scarcely think about how his movements were hurting his abused hole... that was all secondary now. Now he had these thoughts he couldn't control, like how he wanted to fuck Dean's mouth, images of kneeling over Dean's face, pushing his dick inside Dean's mouth harder, pushing his head into the pillow...

"Ungh...." His white knuckled fingers started to slip down. Sam threw his head back, gasping for air, eyes unfocused but still watching Dean. His balls tightened against his body. His knees suddenly went weak. "Fuck..." Dean's name ripped from Sam's throat as he came so hard he almost lost his balance, his knees banging into Dean's chest as Sam tried to get a new grip on the door frame. Jolts of heat pulsed through him as his cock was almost mercilessly milked until he had nothing left to give and Dean allowed him to slip out of his mouth.

Sam slid down to his knees in front of Dean, his breaths coming out in hot puffs. "Don't know how you do it. I'd say you were magic or put a hex on me, if I believed that stuff." It was true, wasn't it only a few hours ago when he'd vowed not to let Dean get anywhere near him until he had healed? He threw his arms around Dean, caressing his back, his shoulders and his arms. "I..." Was it love or lust? It had to be lust, right? Afraid to ask his questions out loud, he amended. "I want to kiss you." Leaning in, he planted his mouth over Dean's and kissed him with everything he had. Passion. Gratitude. Love or lust... he wasn't sure there was a difference when it came to this man. He tangled his tongue with Dean's, letting him lead as soon as he responded, but giving as good as he got, chasing and stroking Dean's tongue with his and moaning like he hadn't just found his release.

* * *

Dean could see how hard it was for Sam to obey him, to keep his hands held above him, gripping the door frame as Dean had ordered him to. Yet Sam did as he was told and the demon didn’t hesitate rewarding the young man.

Squeezing Sam’s ass hard as he sucked on the hot thick length, hollowing his cheeks and moaning around Sam’s cock. Letting the boy fuck his throat as hard and deep as he wanted. Watching in pleasure as the young man’s beautiful muscles strained. For the ‘geek’ Sam kept claiming to be the young man truly had a beautiful physique and Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen a more gorgeous sight as Sam utterly lost in pleasure.

The demon would have smiled at the way Sam’s eyes practically rolled back in his head in pleasure if his lips weren’t already occupied. Even as Dean could feel the boy quickly approaching release, Sam thrusting harder between his lips, down his throat, practically choking him, and the demon took him all. Sam’s knuckles turned white he gripped the edge of the door so hard, trying not to move. Dean’s arousal reaching new heights as the young man screamed his name and nearly collapsed as he began to come. The demon swallowing everything the beautiful young man shot down his throat, and much to Dean’s pleasure Sam never let go through it all.

Dean held the young man up through his orgasm, sucking down every delicious drop of come Sam gifted him with. Once the young man had given him everything he could he let Sam slip free from his lips and allowed his lover to collapse to his knees into his arms.

The demon chuckled softly at Sam’s breathless words and didn’t hesitate returning the young man’s kiss. Loving how the boy kissed him deeply without hesitation despite how the taste of Sam’s own come was still strong in his mouth.

“Perhaps you have cast the spell over me, since you've enchanted me since the first moment I saw you.” Dean whispered when their lips finally parted, rubbing his still firm cock against his lover’s thigh.

* * *

Sam clung to Dean, his strength sapped , his body sated and now encircled in powerful arms that he hoped would never let him go. Dean's words had Sam smiling at the compliment though he knew of course that Dean was exaggerating. "You probably just like a challenge and that night I was a scared rabbit trying to hide from the big bad wolf." He pressed against Dean's arousal which felt hot and hard against his own flesh. "Now I've found out I like big bad wolves. Especially handsome ones, with talented tongues and... " and he forgot was he was going to say, instead fitting his mouth against Dean's for another kiss.

He reached down and pushed his hand over Dean's cock, rubbing his palm up and down its hard length and pressing it against his thigh. His middle finger found Dean's tip and played with it, circling it gently as only the heel of his hand continued to massage Dean's dick. He felt his finger tip get wet and broke the kiss. "I want to... to take care of that. Why don't you get on the bed?" He knew there was no way he could bend down, he was already hurting. "Or zipping up your pants might be a problem. A _big_ problem," he chuckled, squeezing and grinding the heel of his hand again.

* * *

Dean loved how warm and relaxed Sam was in his arms, completely trusting. They were pressed so close the young man’s breath against his skin was a gentle caress and he could feel when Sam smiled in response to his words. Dean chuckled softly at the boy’s reply as he ran his fingertips gently over the sweat dampened skin of Sam’s back.

The big bad wolf, huh? Little did Sam know that wasn’t so far from the truth.

Before he could reply Sam was kissing him again and Dean was more than happy to oblige. Caressing his tongue against the younger man’s as Sam’s fingers played with his cock, his moans of pleasure and approval lost in his lover’s mouth.

“Oh yes…” Dean panted softly when their lips finally parted, his cock aching, more than eager for the promise of release Sam offered him. The demon groaned deeply at Sam’s teasing, both with his hands and with his words. He managed to get to his feet, though with a little less grace than he was used to displaying, and pulled Sam up as well figuring the young man might have a difficult time of it otherwise.

Dean walked backwards to the bed, tugging the young man by his hand until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. Only then did Dean let go to lay down on the bed as Sam had asked. His eyes never leaving Sam’s as he leaned back on his elbows and spread out. His legs slightly parted, and one knee slightly bent, his cock full and ready resting against his stomach, Dean was fully aware of what an enticing image he made.

* * *

Sam stood transfixed by the sight of his beautiful lover naked and posed on the bed like a blatant offering. Mouth going dry, hardly able to breathe, he managed to break eye contact as his gaze slowly traveled over every inch of Dean's sun-kissed body, his chiseled chest and the hard planes of his stomach, his cock standing proud and glistening at its swollen tip, his legs, long, lean and powerful, spread slightly in invitation. By the time Sam's heated gaze traveled back up to Dean's face, every cell in Sam's body was screaming and echoing messages of lust and sex and the knowing look in Dean's eyes, it sent an impossible ache straight to Sam's cock. In this moment, he knew beyond any doubt, he was outgunned in every way, that he was so far out of his league, in such deep waters without a life jacket, that he'd drown if Dean told him to, that he'd do anything the man asked, anything. That he'd be wrecked if Dean ever asked him to leave.

How could someone hold such power over him? It both scared Sam and left him in awe. "Please don't break me," he whispered thickly, somehow knowing not only that Dean could, but that he would someday.

Walking around to the other side of the bed, his gaze always locked with Dean's, Sam crawled toward Dean at a perpendicular angle and laid flat on his stomach, his elbows bearing his weight as he hovered over Dean's cock, aching to taste and to give Dean as good as he'd gotten. He looked down, studying Dean's cock intently and allowing his hot breaths to fan over Dean's hard flesh. Hoping to hell that what he lacked in experience, he made up for with secret research and enthusiasm, he cupped Dean's balls and pushed them up against the base of Dean's cock as he dipped his head down and started to lick and kiss Dean's belly. His face pressed and brushed against Dean's cock, but he concentrated on making love to the areas surrounding his dick and only accidentally touching him where he probably most needed to be touched. "So hard... you're so fucking hard," he said, lifting up slightly and rubbing his cheek against Dean's shaft as he looked into his face to see his reaction.

* * *

The look of almost worship in Sam’s eyes as the young man gazed upon him sent an undeniable thrill through the demon. Dean loved that look. It spoke of obsession, lust, desire, need, maybe even love. He had seen similar looks from other mortals of course, though never quite to this degree. Or maybe Dean simply didn’t really care that they looked at him like this. They were nothing to him. But Sam…

Samuel… his brother had looked at him like this. Not with desire or passion, but unquestioning love. Right up until the end… until Dean had watched the light, the life, in those eyes go out…

Sam’s soft words brought him back to the present and Dean blinked, forcing himself out of the memory he did not wish to relive right now. The pain those memories brought with them was still so sharp after all this time… and now was not the time for pain. One day he would have to make Sam remember somehow but today would not be that day. Today was only about pleasure. His and Sam’s…

He watched Sam’s every movement as the young man finally approached the bed slowly. The boy moved with an almost unconscious grace, and Dean devoured the sight of those beautiful muscles moving underneath flawless skin as his lover slowly laid down on the bed. The sight of the beautiful young man poised over his cock, those sweet lips so close to his aching erection, made his flesh tingle with anticipation. The caressing heat of the young man’s breath making him ache all the more.

It seemed a small eternity before Sam finally touched him but Dean was in absolutely no rush. They had all day. Soft moans of pleasure spilled from his lips when the young man cupped his balls and began licking around his throbbing member. Tiny almost tickling flicks of his tongue against his stomach that made Dean smile and sigh.

“For you.” Dean whispered softly. Reaching down to caress Sam’s face with his fingertips as the young man’s cheek brushed against his dick, leaving trails of clear precum along that beautiful face. Dean trailed his fingers through the young man’s hair, down his neck and along his back to Sam’s flank. His touch feather light, barely a touch at all down and back up slowly. 

* * *

Dean's words made Sam's heart swell. For him... Dean said he was hard for him, like he meant _only_ for him. Between the way the words were spoken and the way he softy ran his hand over Sam's face, Sam knew he was getting dangerously close to doing something much worse than falling for this man hook, line and sinker. If he wasn't careful, he was going to find himself believing this was love, that Dean was lavishing his love on Sam. Based on everything he knew about Dean, everything Dean had left out there in the open, hadn't hidden from him, Sam knew that conclusion would be wrong and foolish. Dean was a player. Okay, maybe he liked him more than a little. Maybe he liked him a lot. That didn't mean love. It meant they had something right here, in this moment, but it didn't promise tomorrow, or even the next hour.

Somehow, this man could make fantasy trump reality every time. Especially when he was looking at him like this, so intently, like Sam was at the center of his universe. And when he touched him, lightly, like Sam was something precious. There was nothing that Sam was going to be able to do to protect his heart from Dean, nothing. He might just as well accept that.

For now, Dean was his and Sam was determined to give him a reason to keep wanting to be his, to keep wanting to be hard for Sam, not for someone else. "And this... _for you_." Letting Dean get a glimpse of the tip of his tongue as Sam ran it around his mouth, wetting his lips, he dipped his head down. Using the flat of his tongue, he licked up from the base of Dean's cock to his tip. His first touch was light, but after that, he started to lick harder, giving Dean more pressure as he repeated the motion, over and over, moving slightly to the right or left, painting his way around every inch of Dean's cock as he kept up the pressure on his balls and used his thumb to rub the sensitive spot between his balls and cock.

Once he had Dean good and wet, he grasped his cock in his hand and squeezed and stroked him a few times, his hand gliding up and down. Dean was so fucking hard in his hand it had Sam moaning with renewed lust. His mouth tingled, aching to take Dean inside. Parting his lips wide, he kissed and teased Dean's crown, almost but not quite sucking him inside. The weight of Dean's stare made Sam's gut tighten. He liked knowing he was affecting Dean, it just seemed to get him hotter. Hovering over the crown of Dean's cock, he licked around it the finally sucked it into the wet heat of his mouth. Sucking, he moved up and down, taking just a little more of Dean's dick with each up and down movement of his head, humming around him, wordlessly telling him how good this was for him too.

When his mouth met his hand at the base of Dean's cock, Sam let go and slowly took Dean the rest of the way inside, relaxing his throat and letting Dean bottom out against it. Swallowing around Dean, he slowly pulled off and dipped his head down, this time opening his mouth and taking Dean's cock in it sideways and moving up and down his shaft. He knew Dean probably wanted to be back inside, but if this was going to be special, he had to make Dean want it bad, want it in a way he'd remember for a long time.

* * *

Sam seemed almost surprised by his words, and Dean couldn’t help but be amused by that. _Who else?_ The demon almost wanted to ask, but he didn’t. He enjoyed that look of surprised awe too much to ruin it.

He wished Sam could always look this way. The boy’s eyes full of wonder and passion, staring at him like he was his entire world, just as his beautiful Samuel had. If Dean didn’t know better he’d say that true love was staring him right in the face. But surely that was only his dick talking.

Dean was about as far from a hopeless romantic as a being could possibly be. He was practical. He was ruthless. He was obsessive. He knew what he wanted and did whatever was necessary to get it. He wasn’t romantic. Right now what he wanted more than anything was Sam. His Samuel.

But there was no denying what he felt for Sam was as close to love as something like him could feel. As twisted and dark as his heart was Sam’s pleasure gave him pleasure, Sam’s happiness made him happy, he would give this boy anything he wished, Sam had only to ask, and Dean would rip apart anything that dared to threaten the boy…

He might not be a hopeless romantic, but Dean had a feeling that Sam was. Looking down into those beautiful hazel eyes Dean knew without a shadow of a doubt Sam was falling for him. If Sam hadn’t fallen for him already. Dean almost smiled wondering what Sam would do if he said those three precious words that everyone wanted to hear from their lover at some point. _I love you_. Maybe the boy’s head would explode…

Certainly Dean felt like exploding, his dick at least, as he watched that sinful tongue lick those perfect lips so close to his cock. Dean felt his own tongue snake out to swipe along his own lips, still tasting Sam’s release on them, and he couldn’t help but groan.

Dean never looked away as Sam began to worship his cock. First licking him, playing with him with his tongue and fingers until he was nearly dripping wet with both saliva and precum. His cock thick and almost red with blood he was so hard, his tip leaking profusely, and Sam loved it. He could see it in the boy’s eyes. Sam loved having such power over him. He could see pleasure in those eyes at every groan that Sam pulled from him, every drop of cum that Sam licked away.

Dean’s fingers found their way into the young man’s hair once more, tangling in the long sweat dampened strands. Sometimes tightening as his breath hitched with pleasure, his hips lifting up off the bed a fraction when pleasure overrode his muscle control. Then finally Sam stopped teasing him and started to take him into that perfect mouth. Inch by inch he watched his dick disappear between those sweet lips, until finally he was all the way inside, the boy practically deep throating him and Dean couldn’t help but moan loudly.

“Oh fuck, Sam… yes… so fucking good…” Dean panted, his eyes almost rolling back feeling the vibration of Sam’s throat around his sensitive flesh when the boy hummed. He was going to lose it embarrassingly quickly if Sam kept this up. But as much as Dean wanted this to last the last thing he wanted was for Sam’s mouth to release him, and the demon couldn’t help the shiver that passed through him when he felt the cool air hit his hot flesh instead of the heat of Sam’s mouth.

Sam’s lips moving up and down his cock felt good, but that’s not what he wanted. His fingers had tightened in Sam’s hair once more and was pulling in a way that probably wasn’t all that comfortable but he couldn’t help himself.

“Give me your mouth, Sam. Let me fuck your mouth…” Dean whispered, half pleading half demanding. 

* * *

The less than gentle tug on his hair didn't surprise Sam, but the insistence with which Dean re-positioned his face and demanded he take his cock surprised and sent a strange thrill through him. He opened his mouth to speak but Dean had lifted his hips and his cock was nudging against Sam's mouth, wanting in right the hell now. Grasping Dean's cock once again, Sam opened his mouth and wrapped his lips tight around it as he sank down and took Dean deep into his mouth. The hand pressing on the back of his head clued him in on how fast and hard Dean needed him to move and Sam obeyed, moving up and down Dean's shaft, sucking on him, hollowing his mouth so he could give his lover maximum pressure. Heated moans came from both of them. They encouraged Sam, made him give more of what Dean wanted,, give him everything even at the threat of choking at times.

His jaw grew tired, started to hurt a little. Yet Sam pushed on, using his hand at the base of Dean's cock in tandem with the motions of his mouth, twisting his wrist, moving up and down Dean's shaft. The hand on the back of his head lightened up,, though Dean's motions got a bit more jerky, less controlled. Remembering how good it had felt to fuck Dean's mouth, to be in control of how quickly he pushed inside, how far, and how deep, Sam dared to pull off Dean's cock one more time. Though he thought he caught a flash of irritation in Dean's eyes, he quickly avoided Dean's hand and moved over on the bed, rolling onto his back. "Fuck my mouth Dean. Fuck it as hard as you want," he whispered, tugging on Dean's hip so he'd roll over and do exactly as he wanted.

* * *

The sparks that ignited between their locked gazes were practically visible. Sam’s eyes full of surprised pleasure and excitement, Dean’s eyes demanding and lustful as he waited for the boy to give him what he wanted. The demon couldn’t deny the effect that his words had upon the young man was making his blood practically boil with desire. He didn’t think his cock could get any harder and yet it did. He didn’t think he could want Sam any more and yet he did.

Sam hesitated but a moment, but another sharp tug on his hair and Dean all but forcing the head of his cock back into the young man’s mouth was enough to silence any protest. Then Sam gave him exactly what he wanted. Giving into his commands, both verbal and non verbal, obediently Sam opened his mouth and took his cock back into that exquisite heat. No longer teasing or playing with him Sam began to suck hard on his flesh and bob his head. Taking him deeper and deeper, using his hand, tongue, and lips with surprising skill.

Dean’s groans grew louder and louder in response and his grip in Sam’s hair didn’t loosen. Instead he used his hold to guide Sam exactly how he wanted him. Exactly how he needed him. Taking him deeper than Dean even thought the boy could, feeling Sam choke on his cock sometimes before Dean let him up but the boy never complained and it was perfect.

“That’s it… take it all… so good…” Dean encouraged between his ragged breaths, grunts, and moans of pleasure. As he got closer and closer to his release his fingers relaxed somewhat in the boy’s hair but his hips started jerking up harder and faster, his cock pumping in and out of those sweet lips.

Before he could come however Sam pulled off his cock again and Dean’s growl of frustration and almost anger was inevitable. His eyes locked with the younger man’s, yet before he could grab the boy and force him back down on his cock Sam had rolled away from him to lay on his back. Those sweet magic words killed any further irritation Dean might have felt and he moved quickly then, guided by the insistent tugging.

His knees braced on either side of the young man’s head, Dean wasted no time positioning his cock before Sam’s waiting mouth. He let the head of his dick rub back and forth across those slick lips for a few moments, letting Sam kiss and lick at his tip, before he started to push inside and didn’t stop. Forcing himself past the boy’s gag reflex, pushing his cock deep into Sam’s mouth and throat until his balls hit the young man’s chin and his nose was buried in his pubic hair, and Dean groaned out an almost pained sound at the exquisite feeling.

He stayed there only a moment before he pulled out, enough to let Sam take a breath, but then he started to fuck the boy’s mouth in earnest. The demon’s thrusts gradually becoming faster and harder and always deep. Sometimes he felt Sam’s teeth graze his cock when the boy couldn’t force back his gag reflex quick enough and that only made the demon groan louder.

He was close. So fucking close. Sam’s name spilled from his lips in an almost chant amid words of encouragement mingled with filth, louder and louder until he finally stilled deep in his lover’s throat and shouted with pleasure as he shot rope after rope of hot spunk down his the young man’s throat. Dean didn’t pull out until he was completely spent, some of his come leaking from Sam’s lips when the demon pulled his softening prick from his mouth. Immediately Dean shifted his position so he could lie face to face over the beautiful boy, his body blanketing Sam’s as he kissed his lover hard, licking away his spilled seed from the young man’s lips.

“That was perfect. You’re perfect.” Dean whispered between now tender kisses to the mouth he’d just ravaged. 

* * *

Dean had taken him literally, or maybe he'd just pushed Dean too far. All Sam knew was that there was no gentleness in Dean's actions, none. Dean's cock plunged in and out of his mouth, harder and faster. It took a little effort, but Sam collected his wits and forced himself to relax and to take breaths whenever he could. One some level, Dean's desperation, his loss of control, registered as a triumph. He did everything he could to give Dean more pleasure, hallowing his cheeks to give him suction, using his tongue to give him pressure and trying to suppress his gag reflex. His hands gripped Dean's hips, instinctively prepared to protect himself if this got to be too much and he had to shove Dean away. It never came to that and deep down, he knew it was because he trusted Dean, somehow trusted him to keep at least a shred of control and not choke him, even if at time it was pretty damned close.

As Dean's groans got louder, Sam knew he was close. He gave his own moans, vibrating around Dean's thick cock, sucking him harder and expecting him to pull up slightly. Instead, Dean came deep in his mouth. It was all Sam could do to swallow and not choke, and though he tried desperately to swallow it all, some of Dean's cum spilled from his mouth. It had gone so well, he thought he'd done well until he hadn't been able to drink everything down. Before he could say anything, apologize, make it better, Dean was on top of him, kissing him and cleaning his mouth and throat free of cum. His weight put pressure on Sam's body, reminding him that his body still ached from last night. And yet, he could never resist Dean's kisses or complain, and he didn't. Winding his arms around Dean's shoulders, he kissed him back, a little in awe of how Dean managed to think beyond the intensity of what they'd just done enough to kiss Sam the way Sam needed and liked.

As Dean broke the kiss, Sam realized he was real tired... like he'd never gotten to sleep. Course Dean's claims of perfection perked him up, as did the way Dean gently sucked on his upper and lower lips, soothing them. "Mmm... dunno about perfect but you could make anyone look good." Raising his face, Sam kissed Dean again, this time pushing his own tongue into Dean's mouth and tangling them until he was out of breath. "I'm... I'm gonna rest a few," he declared, running his hands down over Dean's damp skin to the small of his back. "Just a few... don't have to move," he muttered, moving his face to the side and nuzzling Dean's throat. "Also, did I mention you're turning me into a sex maniac?" He wasn't even kidding. Not even a little, as he ran his hands lower, moving them gently back and forth over the curve of Dean's smooth ass cheeks.

* * *

Sam’s lips were raw and his voice was a little hoarse from the punishment it had taken from Dean’s roughness. The demon even suspected that some of the dampness on Sam’s face wasn’t just from sweat and semen. Add that to the almost brutal way he’d fucked Sam last night it was no surprise the weariness that the boy displayed now. So Dean merely smiled and nodded when the boy said he was going to get a little shut eye. He certainly deserved it, and it wasn’t like they needed to be anywhere today. Where he’d planned on taking Sam it could certainly wait a few hours.

“Take all the time you want.” Dean replied softly, shifting just enough so he wasn’t putting all of his weight on the younger man and tugging the rumpled sheets around them both, trapping them in a nice cocoon of warmth.

Dean chuckled softly at Sam’s ‘sex maniac’ comment, running his own fingers tenderly up and down his lover’s flushed skin anywhere he could reach. Over his thighs, ass, and back. Rather than replying however he pressed a soft kiss to Sam’s hairline.

“Sleep, baby.” He whispered, and gave the younger man a little mental push in that direction to help him get there quickly. It would be easier to do what he wanted to do once Sam was asleep after all.

Once the young man was snoring peacefully Dean reached out with the tendrils of his power and let them travel softly over Sam’s skin much like his fingers. Everywhere they touched they began to heal the damage Dean had done to his lover’s fragile body. Not only did he heal the raw flesh deep inside the young man and his throat that Dean had just fucked much too roughly, but he also eased the pain in Sam’s overexerted muscles anywhere else.

Dean knew he couldn’t heal him completely, not without Sam becoming extremely suspicious, but he made sure that when Sam awoke it would only be to a very mild discomfort rather than real pain. When Dean was done he kissed Sam’s now only slightly swollen lips tenderly and settled in to watch the boy sleep until he woke again. 

* * *

  


It was mid afternoon when Dean was finally pulling the car into the crowded parking lot where the King's Faire was taking place. Earlier, Sam had slept not for a few minutes but for a couple of hours. He had hardly believed it when he woke, and he'd told Dean that Dean could have awakened him. Strangely, while Sam had pegged Dean as an impatient person, he seemed not to have minded at all. He'd even stayed in bed with Sam, even though he apparently hadn't slept. Sam thought it meant Dean had wanted to stay close, but he supposed it could be that he'd just been feeling lazy, even if not sleepy. Nah, he preferred his first explanation.

From the moment that Sam had sat up, he'd known something was different. He wasn't hurting like he had been in the morning, and there was a little tin box with a hard cream inside it, he'd opened it to see. Neither one of them spoke about it, but Sam knew that while he'd been asleep, Dean must have taken care of him. He'd told Sam to keep it, in case he needed more. There was also some ointment at the corners of his mouth. Dean had _really_ taken care of him. That earned Dean a big hug but Sam had already slipped off the bed when he realized Dean had thought he was about to kiss him. That had Sam giving an embarrassed laugh but also asking Dean whether no one ever gave him a hug, just a hug.

They'd had a small bite to eat because the drive to the faire would be two hours long or so, then they'd taken off. With the drive being so long, Sam was real glad that magic cream of Dean's worked so well. Nothing and no one was going to pry it away from him, that much he knew. The next time they went at it that hard, he wouldn't suffer for a few hours until Dean woke up or got him the stuff.

As soon as he got out of the car, he looked around at other people walking toward the entrance to the park. More than half were wearing period clothing. "That guy makes a great pirate," he said, pointing at a man who was wearing long boots and had a fake sword at the ready. His grin widened as the man's "wench" put her arm around him and they stopped to let someone take a picture. There were people dressed as kings and queens, wench's and ladies, peasants and soldiers, even knights. The costumes were colorful, garish even, but Sam liked them. "It's like 'dress up' for adults," he said, moving closer to Dean as they headed for the entrance.

* * *

As Dean got out of the car he couldn’t help but smile at the expression on Sam’s face as the young man took in the whole renaissance faire scene. Almost like an excited child, practically bursting at the seams with energy, and looking at everything with a kind of curious awe that only the young and innocent seemed to manage.

It pleased the demon that he had apparently chosen the right kind of outing for them today. Of course he knew the club scene wasn’t Sam’s thing, but he didn’t really know what Sam’s ‘thing’ was. He remembered Sam enjoyed activities such as scuba diving but as much as Dean might have wanted to, he couldn’t take the boy to the beach. Sam would certainly get suspicious when Dean started hacking from all the salt in the air and if he was actually touched with salt water? No, not fun.

Dean had considered several art galleries or museums. Since Sam enjoyed looking at his little collection so the boy obviously had some interest, but that just didn’t feel right. Finally Dean decided they needed something a little less formal for their second ‘date’. When he had chosen to take Sam to the renaissance faire he’d had ulterior motives of course. Several in fact. But he hadn’t been sure Sam would enjoy it. Now he watched with amusement and pleasure as Sam looked and pointed and they hadn’t even gotten through the gates yet.

He was also pleased that he had chosen to heal the boy earlier. Sam’s discomfort, knowing it was because Dean’s cock had used his hole so thoroughly, had amused the demon, but this was better. Dean had watched as Sam pocketed the tin of cream he had given the boy earlier, chuckling to himself. It wasn’t the store brand ointment that he had told Sam about before, rather a concoction of his own making. Much more effective, made with ingredients you wouldn’t find in any store. Not as effective as Dean healing Sam himself of course but still very effective.

When Sam stepped close Dean caught his hand and pulled the young man into a kiss, his hands sliding around the boy’s waist and pulling Sam’s body up against his own. Dean took his time with it, tasting Sam’s lips and exploring the sweet cavern beyond with his tongue. When they finally parted they had earned a few stares themselves.

Dean grinned a little at the young man’s slightly dazed expression when they parted.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” He said, not dropping Sam’s hand as he led the young man towards the entrance gate, threading their fingers together. Dean didn’t let go until he was forced to take out his wallet to pay for their tickets and he took Sam’s hand again immediately once they were through the gate.

It took only a moment for Dean to see what he was looking for.

“Feel like playing dress up, Sammy?” Dean asked with a grin, not really waiting for the young man’s answer before he started tugging him towards the costume shop near the front entrance. 

* * *

He loved the way Dean kissed him, and he loved how he tasted. Mostly, Sam loved how it made his heart race and left him lightheaded. This must be what it felt like to be addicted to a drug. For once, he could see... really understand what people who tried to quit something like that might go through.

Realizing they were in the middle of a parking lot though, that had him just a little self conscious. But when no one appeared to be giving them strange looks, his mouth curved into a smile and he walked alongside Dean and let him take his hand. As Dean paid for the tickets, Sam was barely paying any attention to that. His eyes were everywhere, taking in the sight of peasants and nobility walking past in large groups. Some people held gigantic turkey legs and were eating as they walked, making Sam think of Henry VIII pictures with the king feasting away. As Dean tugged him, he willingly went with the man, still eyeing those who strolled by with large mugs of 'ale' and more delicate looking 'goblets' of mead.

"I wonder what they mean by 'rides,' he mused," pointing at a sign that gave directions to old fashioned human operated rides. "That should be interesting, to see how they made things move. I wonder if there will be pulleys and..." Realizing he was probably about to bore Dean, he quickly changes directions in his chatter. "I mean, it should be fun getting a ride or two."

Then Dean started talking about playing 'dress up' and Sam found himself inside a costume store. His gaze riveted to Dean's face to see if Dean was serious. "You mean _both_ of us, not just me?" he asked, to be sure that was what Dean meant. "Cause no way I'm doing it alone," he chuckled and then nodded. "Yeah, that might be fun. I haven't dressed in costumes since... I dunno, I was like twelve, you know for Halloween."

Dropping Dean's hand, he started to go through the costumes hanging on the racks. In the 'Royalty' section, Sam found a bunch of King outfits, then pulled one out. "Here, you could be Henry the Eighth." The outfit came complete with a fur trimmed royal cape that Sam was pretty sure Dean wouldn't want to be caught dead in. "And... here's something that might be fun to carry around all day." He'd whipped out the giant pillow that would slip inside the costume to make a large belly. "Plus a crown, what else could you want, Dean?"

* * *

Dean couldn't help but chuckle at Sam's self conscious stipulation that he would only dress up if Dean did. That had been the plan anyway so Dean only nodded as they started going through the racks of clothing available for purchase or renting. Every once in a while he would glance over at Sam and smile at just how 'into' it the young man seemed. However when Sam held up the 'costume' for him Dean gave the young man an incredulous look.

Dean replied with a snort and shake of his head. He had his pride after all. In retaliation Dean held up a rather intricate lacy corset for the young man to look at with a grin. "I'll wear that if you wear this."

He already knew the answer to that before the look of horror crossed Sam's face and Dean couldn't help but laugh, placing it back on the rack. The shop actually had a fairly large selection of items and they could spend hours in here without even trying, but Dean actually had some idea of what he was looking for. Something that might remind Sam of a time before…

Nothing too fancy, since he'd always thought the clothing nobles wore was too gaudy and frilly for his taste, even four hundred years ago. He found a lace up white shirt with loose sleeves and a black leather renaissance style jacket to go over it. A pair of plain black breeches, because there was no way in hell Dean was going to be caught dead in stockings, and high black leather boots.

Satisfied with his finds he told Sam he'd be right back and headed for the dressing room. It didn't take long for him to change, the clothing feeling surprisingly familiar even though he had never worn anything so 'luxurious' back then.

Pleased with his look, Dean returned to Sam to show off.

"Well, what do you think?" He asked, turning around to give the younger man the full effect.  


* * *

  


Sam barely had a chance to see what Dean had selected when the guy disappeared into the curtained dressing room. He continued his search, turning when he heard Dean's voice. He almost dropped the outfit he was carrying as he stared at Dean with much more than only approval in his eyes. The jacket he was wearing was tailored to his body because of all the ties that made it fit just right. His gaze traveled slowly down from Dean's broad chest, to his tapered waist, and lower, down the length of his darkly clad legs, then snapped back up to meet his eyes. He knew he hadn't been subtle, and that made the heat rise to his cheeks, but he couldn't help himself. "Makes me want something I have no business wanting already," he whispered for Dean's ears only, running his hand down Dean's chest. "You look... great. You'll have all the princesses, ladies and wenches asking for a tumble. And some of us 'lads' as well."

Feeling the store assistant's eyes on him, Sam took a step back and blew out a hot breath. "Yeah. That's a keeper. Definitely."

He could hardly bear drag his eyes off Dean as he continued his own search. Even as he pulled stuff out and decided they wouldn't do for multiple reasons... too flowery, no way he was wearing balloon shorts or pants, too much gold.... he fought the urge to drink his fill of the way Dean looked. It wasn't just lust though. Something was tugging him him, at his heart and soul. A fleeting memory, something just out of reach. Something that threatened to either make him melancholy or fill him with joy, and he wasn't sure which, or what it could mean.

The assistant walked over and the first thing Sam saw was a burgundy silk poet shirt and started shaking his head 'no.' "I don't want anything too color-"

"This doublet goes over it," the woman said, showing him a black velvet jacket that was very plain except for some piping that ran down the front. "The shirt will be hardly visible except where you haven't laced the front up, and at the sleeves."

Sam took a look, glanced at Dean for approval, and then went to try the costume on. He had a few other things, but wasn't thrilled with any of them really. Then he put the costume she'd suggested on and had to agree she'd been right. The sleeves of the black jacket were slashed and laced back together in two places so that the burgundy shirt sleeves pulled through and were a little visible, and then were visible as a frill around the cuff. A slash of color was also visible down the front of his jacket, where it laced together. The jacket went to his thighs, and had a burgundy belt. The black trouser pants fit well and he could keep his black shoes on. No, it wasn't too bad.

Pulling the curtain to one side, he walked out, giving Dean an uncertain look.

* * *

Dean couldn't help but grin at the younger man's reaction, the way Sam looked at him as though he were good enough to eat. He guessed Sam liked what he saw then. If the damned shop clerk wasn't watching them so carefully Dean would have seriously considered dragging Sam into one of those dressing rooms and fucking the boy senseless. But there would be plenty of time for that later, the demon reminded himself. So he contented himself with enjoying the not so covert lustful glances Sam kept throwing his way as the boy searched for something to wear.

They searched for another good fifteen minutes but didn't find anything to their liking that fit the young man. Not that Dean was impatient or anything, well normally he was impatient, but he seemed to have a near inexhaustible supply when it came to Sam. But Dean was looking forward to seeing Sam all 'dressed up' and sexy. Get the boy in the mood for a little role play that Dean was fully determined to take advantage of later.

Finally the previously mentioned store clerk approached them with something that looked just about perfect. Between the assistant's and Dean's urgings to try it on Sam finally relented and disappeared into the dressing room. Dean almost followed him but a stern look from the shop assistant made Dean glare back at her but he remained outside, for once not wanting to cause a scene. He didn't want to risk getting kicked out before the fun even started.

It took Sam a little longer to get dressed than Dean had, probably because the young man wasn't used to wearing this type of clothing like Dean was. But when the young man finally emerged Sam quite literally took his breath away.

"Perfect." Dean breathed, his eyes drinking in the sight of Sam much like the young man had before. It wasn't like anything he'd ever seen his brother Samuel wear of course, being much too expensive for them to even think of affording such garments. Clothes like this weren't really in fashion in the colonies either. But the times when Dean had let himself dream about giving his brother anything and everything…

"If you looked any hotter, I'd have to ravish you right here and now." The demon teased, grinning wickedly. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he'd ravished the boy in public.

* * *

"You'll have to wait until after seven to do your ravishing, there are kids in the park until then," the woman assisting them said. "If you bring your clothes, I can wrap them up or hang them. You can leave them here and pick them up when you leave, or you can take them to the car now," she offered.

That was when Sam realized they'd selected their outfits from the purchase side of the store. Dean didn't blink at the price though, and had already produced his credit car. Feeling a little guilty, he put his hand on Dean's back and when the woman's back was turned, he leaned in and whispered, "maybe there'll be some ravishing in the car... before we head back." The look Dean gave him was enough to make Sam's heart tumble against his chest. He looked away quickly, before he made a fool of himself.

They decided to leave their stuff and walked out. Sam couldn't help checking Dean out, waiting for the guy to slightly pass him so he could get a look at his ass in those tight pants. "I never thought anyone could look so good in clothes like this. I mean I never thought about clothes like this, except in some dreams," he shrugged, then gave Dean a second look. He was so glad that nightmare was over, that Dean had been there to make it better last night. But he wasn't gonna think on that. "Come on, let's get some drinks," he said grabbing Dean's hand and dragging him toward one of the Taverns. "It's on me," he insisted. "I'm going to try a glass of mead. Dean? Honeywine or are you sweet enough?" He added, laughing a little.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at the shopkeeper’s comment and one look at Sam told him that the boy thought she was joking. Oh, this was going to be so much fun. He was still grinning as he fished out one of his credit cards to pay for their clothing. Well worth the price in his opinion. A warm chuckle left his lips when Sam whispered seductively in his ear. Oh, how he would have loved to take the boy up on his offer right now, but Dean reminded himself there would be plenty of time for that and he didn’t want to wear the boy out too early.

So instead he merely gave the young man a seductive smile as they finished paying for their purchases and handed over their street clothes for the store to keep for them. Dean pocketed the ticket that would let them pick up their belongings later, and handed over a healthy tip to the woman for her assistance.

He could feel Sam’s eyes on him as they left the shop and Dean wouldn’t deny he was amused at the way the boy was checking him out. The demon turned to give the boy a teasing, but pleased look. When Sam mentioned his dreams however, Dean raised an eyebrow in question. Maybe they were getting somewhere after all…

Unfortunately before he could question the young man about his dreams Sam was changing the subject and tugging him along. Dean decided to drop it, again, for now, because he didn’t want to risk ruining Sam’s good mood.

“I’ll take some. It’s been a while since I’ve had it.” Dean replied with a chuckle, following after Sam. 

* * *

They left the tavern with drinks in hand and walked around, looking at displays. There were fake weaving shops where people in costume demonstrated the old techniques, and bakeries making hard bread and yelling at passers by to buy some. Once in a while, a troubadours, court jesters and dancing troupes would come by and entertain them. Sam found he liked the taste of the mead and they stopped several times to get more to carry around with them. There were arts and crafts on display too, but those they took a quick look at without lingering too long.

Ignoring Dean's groan, Sam dragged him to where there was a demonstration of how parchment was made. Before he knew it, he was in conversation with the demonstrator about the different ways of making parchment, the different weights and the first cultures to have invented paper. Sam would probably have talked to him for a lot longer if he hadn't realized most normal people would be bored by now. He found out the guy owned a bookstore and promised to visit sometime, then giving Dean a sheepish grin, he walked out.

"You know, you can always kick me when I get like that. All my friends do," he admitted. "Seriously. But the fact you didn't?" Leaning in, Sam kissed Dean and moving his hand slowly up from his abs to his chest. "You taste good with mead," he whispered, pulling back. His eyes had glazed over and he wondered when Dean would stop having that effect on him. Using his thumb, he wiped the Dean's lower lip and walked on with him.

It had started to get dark. Sam's brows quirked at some of the more 'open' outfits he'd started to see. When he saw a woman wearing a dress that was two long strips of material held together just by large safety pins down the side of her body, on both side, and revealing as much flesh as he'd seen at Dante's, he couldn't help tugging on Dean's sleeve to make him look. Still, he didn't comment and they found their way to the rides.

There was a line and many couples were snuggling. Well some were doing more than snuggling and that had Sam wondering a little, even as he moved closer to Dean and was held in his arm for a while. Then they were up.

The ride was a long log that was suspended by ropes thrown over a beam that was high up overhead. Riders would have to sit astride on the long. There were upside down "U" shaped handles along the log, between each person, something they could hang onto. Since he and Dean were at the front of the line, they took the center positions, facing each other. "Something about doing this with you makes me feel all hot and dirty," he admitted in soft voice. "I'm sure that's not what they had in mind when they invented the ride."

On either end of the log, on the ground, there were strapping lads holding the ends of ropes tied to each end of the log. They'd pull the ropes in turn, making the long swing back and forth, as fast as they could pull to the yells of encouragement from the riders and the crowd waiting for a turn.

* * *

Exploring the renaissance faire with Sam, Dean couldn’t remember having a better time in a long while. He was genuinely enjoying himself and that surprised him a little. While the demon often used humans for his own amusement often times they bored him until he finally got what he wanted from them. Whether it be sex or blood, sometimes both. But today his smiles were never forced or faked, and it had everything to do with the young mortal standing at his side.

Dean couldn’t help but be reminded of a time so long ago. Before he was a demon. Before his brother had been murdered. The rare times when Samuel was well enough that Dean could bring him to the town for a day at the market or a festival. While this faire held little resemblance to the celebrations held then, Sam himself was like staring into a mirror reflecting his brother.

How the young man’s eyes lit up every time he saw something new. How excited he would get when able to observe some new, or in this case old, gadget in the works. How he was always talking, asking questions, and soaking in information like a sponge. And Dean felt himself smiling indulgently and watching, like he had never seen a more beautiful sight in all his life. Maybe he hadn’t.

Dean only laughed and shook his head when Sam went on to apologize after he’d spent quite a long time with one demonstrator talking about paper.

"I don’t mind." Dean told him, and it was pure truth. He loved it. Loved watching Sam enjoy himself. As much as he loved the light flush that stained the boy’s cheeks and the desire dancing in Sam’s eyes for him. Patience, Dean reminded himself. Though that didn’t stop him from lightly sucking on the young man’s finger for a moment when it swiped across his lips.

They walked around some more and Dean grinned when Sam started to notice how the ‘outfits’ began to change as it started to get dark. Going from PG to almost R rated the lower the sun set into the horizon. Now it was time for the adults to play and Dean smiled as Sam moved closer to him while they waited in line. Not quite snuggling but close.

Dean laughed out loud at Sam’s comment when they finally got on the ride, leaning forward to capture his lover’s lips in a brief scorching kiss. Much to the amusement of the waiting crowd if the applause he heard was anything to go by.

"I might have to take you up on that." Dean replied with a wink.

* * *

"Dean..." Sam was both breathless and a little embarrassed by the show they'd just given the crowd. He was just getting used to the public displays but this went beyond, almost like when Dean had fucked him at the club. Okay, not that far but... He was starting to wonder if Dean liked to do it in front of people. Sam bit his lip and shook his head. This he could handle. That... he wasn't so sure. Then again, the one time it happened, it wasn't like he couldn't have said 'no.' It was that Dean knew how to make him go out of his head crazy with need to the point he couldn't think for himself anymore.

As the ride started, he gave Dean a smile, which broadened as the ride got faster. His hair blew into his face each time the log he was riding was propelled backwards. Some people shouted "faster, faster, faster!" Sam joined in even when he noticed Dean wasn't yelling with him. Then he noticed how focused Dean was on him and felt a warmth go through his system. God he was easy. And no, he didn't care, he was having fun. A lot of fun.

When the ride finally slowed to a stop, he got off and waited for Dean, then put a hand behind his back and bumped into him. "Uh uh, not here," he said pre-emptively, chuckling as they walked. "I'm getting to know your tricks." When they stopped to get more mead, he looked over his glass at Dean. "Is this one of your tricks too?" Yeah, he was learning Dean's methods, but to be honest, he trusted the guy so it didn't matter. "Mmm tasted good," he said, drinking it much faster than he could drink regular wine. "I'm gonna buy a couple bottles when we leave. For us and for my friend, the guy getting married," he said.

It had grown quite dark now, the park was lit up by moonlight and the lights that were strung along the paths for the fairgoers. A musical troupe approached, the music sounding between Medieval and Arabic. Curious, Sam turned to look. Behind the musicians were dancers in skimpy clothes ranging from belly dancing outfits, to leather, lace and latex. His mouth fell open at watching some of the dirty dancing that was going on, but he couldn't pull his gaze away.

* * *

Dean only grinned at the young man’s reddening cheeks after their lips parted. Sam’s embarrassment however was not a deterrent at all; in fact the boy should know by now it only encouraged him. Especially considering how much the demon knew Sam liked it. Sam liked it when his attention was focused on him at the exclusion of everything else. Sam even liked it when Dean took control and pushed him into doing things he might later deny he’d enjoyed.

Sam had run from him the first night they met, but then came back to him, went out to dinner with him, then let Dean fuck him. Sam had run from him again the next morning but then returned to him again at Dante’s and let him fuck the boy in front of a crowd. Sam had let him fuck him over and over till he was practically raw, never telling him no, or to stop. That was certainly a long way from the shy young man who hadn’t even wanted to let Dean buy him a drink or dance the night they’d met.

The young man always gave him what he wanted, eventually, given enough time and coaxing. While Dean certainly hadn’t enjoyed Sam running away from him in the beginning, now the boy’s token protests only amused him. Such as Sam’s ‘not here’ when they’d gotten off the ride.

Dean only raised an eyebrow when Sam mentioned being wise to his ‘tricks’.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The demon replied ‘innocently’ though the grin he wore might have ruined the effect. He outright laughed at Sam’s accusation after they’d gotten more mead. “I don’t think I need to get you drunk to get inside your pants.”

He nodded anyway when Sam mentioned picking up some bottles to take home with them. That wasn’t the only thing Dean was considering picking up for them to enjoy later.

Dean grinned when Sam’s attention was drawn away by the group of performers. They were delicious and he could understand the boy’s fascination. He could practically smell the young man’s heightened arousal as he watched the skimpily clad youths and girls dancing.

He came up behind Sam and put his arms around the young man’s waist, pulling the boy back against him so that their bodies touched practically everywhere. Swaying a little with the young man in his arms, not really dancing, but enough to cause a delicious friction between them. Sam’s heat soaking into his front as he brushed his lips along the side of his lover’s neck.

“Do you like that?” Dean practically purred in the young man’s ear. 

* * *

Sam had the grace to blush when Dean told it like it was... he really could get into Sam's pants without a drop of liquor. Maybe it got him there faster though, but Sam wasn't about to argue a moot point.

Watching the dancer's, he was barely aware of how close Dean was to him until Dean's arms went around him. Feeling the press of his body, the heat emanating from him, feeling Dean move slowly to the beat of the music, Sam felt his eyes slide closed for a moment as he exhaled a hot breath. He couldn't help remembering how desperately he wanted, needed Dean to take him back, to forgive him for leaving. How good it had felt to have Dean's hands all over him, so good, he'd let Dean take him in front of a club full of people. Forcing his eyes open, he told himself sternly that he was _not_ going to develop a public sex kink.

Then Dean's soft mouth was skimming over the sensitive skin of his neck, and he was whispering, his voice low, raspy and sounding like it was drenched in sex. Sam's heart started to race. He licked his lips, a soft sound escaping him as his mind clamored for an answer. "You... you mean the dancers?" he asked, trying to clear the haze from his brain. "Or this... or you?" Turning his face slightly, he found himself focusing on Dean's lips and gave a soft groan. "Maybe... maybe we should go home... or to the car... or somewhere..." he wasn't sure exactly what he was asking for, but he knew his blood was singing through his veins and that he was about to make a fool of himself. Was this really all it took?

* * *

Dean felt the young man's pulse quicken against his lips and he smiled. So easy. He loved how easily Sam responded to him. His body practically melted into the younger man's as he trailed soft biting kisses up and down the length of Sam's neck. Sometimes pausing long enough to suck a small bruise into the delicious flesh.

The demon chuckled softly at Sam's question.

"Both. But mostly me, of course." Dean murmured softly into the young man's ear before the boy turned to look at him. Their eyes met and he drank in the sight of the beautiful young man's eyes dark with desire, his pupils blown so wide with lust there was almost no color left.

Home… Dean definitely liked the sound of that. Not that he wanted to leave, not just yet anyway, but he enjoyed the fact that Sam had referred to his place as 'home' rather than 'his apartment'. The car? There might be some of that too. But first thing was first.

"Alright. Let's go somewhere." Dean practically purred as one of his hands slid down the young man's body to gently cup Sam's growing erection. As always the demon enjoyed the warmth of the boy's sex, how heavy and full his balls felt, how thick and hard (and growing harder) Sam felt in his hand. He teased them both, gently squeezing and rubbing his palm along the young man's length through his trousers for a few moments before he finally released Sam.

Dean took Sam's hand once more in his own as he led the boy through the crowd, in no real rush despite the desire pumping through his veins. It wasn't long before he saw what he was looking for. A special red lantern hung outside one of the tents which indicated whatever was inside was for adult entertainment only.

"Let's go in here." Dean said, not really giving Sam a chance to reply before he was tugging the boy inside.

* * *

The costume pants weren't thick and hard like jeans. They were soft and a bit stretchy and it was almost like there wasn't much of a barrier between his cock and Dean's hand when Dean cupped him. "Dean!" Sam's exhale was practically a moan. His color deepened, if that was possible, as he looked around wondering if anyone had seen. Heart ramming against his chest, he made an unintelligible sound, agreeing they should go and allowed Dean to pull him along while he tried to get both his mind and body under control.

He wished Dean would walk faster. He wanted to run, to get to the car and make Dean take care of the need burning inside him now. A groan of frustration left Sam's lips when he saw Dean was serious, they were going 'somewhere' not the car. Before he could put the complaint to words, they were inside a tent.

It was pitch black, or so it seemed until Sam's eyes adjusted to the darkness. A red light alternated with a blue light, flooding the center of the tent. Around its edges were other people, onlookers like himself and Dean. He looked back at the center area and wasn't sure what he was seeing. Closest to them, there was a blond guy, about Sam's age, dressed in leather but revealing most of his body. Large strips of material were missing from his pants and his stomach was bare. His arms were up above his head and when Sam looked up, he saw they were cuffed and held up by chains.

Frowning, he looked at the person in the middle. It was a woman, dressed as scantily as the blond. Her wrists were chained above her head just like the guy's. Only, her ankles were also chained, to the ground, and she had a gag in her mouth.

Then, furthest away from them, there was another woman. She was wearing a very short skirt, thigh high boots, and was on her hands and knees. There was a collar around her neck, and a leash dog's leash tied to a post next to her.

Sweeping his gaze over all three again, Sam thought they made an erotic picture but at the same time, he wasn't sure he should be there. Watching. A sense of fear and curiosity warred inside him. Licking his lips, he crowded Dean and whispered in his ear. "What... what are we doing here. This isn't medieval, it's... I dunno..." his words trailed off as three new people moved into the center of the room. A tall, lean man moved behind the blond guy and put his hand on the guy's hip. Sam felt his heart skip a beat, and dragged his gaze away to see another man move behind the woman in the center, and then a woman moved behind the girl on a leash.

* * *

It was all Dean could do not to laugh loudly at Sam’s question, but that would have gotten them more attention than he wanted right now. Instead he merely smiled at how close Sam pressed against him and he tugged the boy even closer. Wrapping an arm around his waist and maneuvering the young man to stand in front of him just like they’d been outside.

He would have loved to see Sam’s expression when the fun started, but this was better. Their bodies pressed flush together. The young man’s warmth soaking into him. His hands able to wander wherever they wished along Sam’s front.

“It’s a demonstration. Proper technique. Just watch.” Dean whispered, his lips teasing along the shell of the young man’s ear. “I thought maybe we could pick up some toys to bring home.”

Actually, Dean had many of these toys, and then some, already back at his apartment. But he wanted to buy some things especially for Sam. The young man would look especially pretty in a leather collar and leash. Something simple, but a little finer than the one the young woman was wearing. An etched leather band, or maybe even solid silver. He wondered if Sam would let him put it on him before they left the faire grounds? Would Sam agree to never take it off?

“Would you wear a collar for me, baby? Something to let everyone know you’re mine?” The demon purred, already thinking of the runes he intended to inscribe on the inside of the collar. Runes of both protection and ownership. It would do until he could place more permanent marks in Sam’s flesh. 

* * *

When Dean stepped behind him and drew him close, Sam was glad it was so dark in the tent. He was sure his pants were tenting around his dick, and it had everything to do with the way he was being held, and the sensation of Dean's erection pressing into his ass, and the suggestive way he was speaking to him, his hot breaths panting across Sam's ear and cheek. His stomach muscles tensed when Dean suggested they might want to buy something. Was he kidding? Sam wasn't sure. All he knew was he was as much out of his depths here as he'd been at Dante's. Sometimes Dean made him forget they were from different worlds, and sometimes, like now, he found ways to highlight the fact.

He watched as one of the couples pantomimed sex motions, with the male leaning over the female who was on all fours. Then he got up, and tugged lightly on the leash he was holding, and she got up too. They walked in a circle around the others, the male wearing a clear expression of ownership. Sam searched the woman's face and saw she was serene and seemed happy to be lead on a leash.

Dean's question about whether he wanted a collar like that startled him. Turning his head slightly, he brushed his mouth against Dean's. "I... not a leash," he shook his head. "Something else that says I'm yours, sure. Like a tee shirt that say's your name or... or something." His attention was drawn to the two males who were now playacting sex. The one in the back ran his hands all over the one that was bound and powerless. Sam felt his breath hiss out as he watched, unconsciously grinding his ass against Dean's cock as heat flared low in his belly.

* * *

When he felt Sam’s lips brush against his in the dark, Dean couldn’t resist kissing the corner of the young man’s mouth. He was both a little disappointed and amused by Sam’s answer. A T-shirt? The demon chuckled softly at that. Amusing as that mental image was, it wasn’t all that sexy. Well, maybe a wet T-shirt, clinging to the young man’s hard muscled chest…

One of his hands came to rest on the younger man’s hip, his fingers curling in the junction where Sam’s leg met his body, only inches away from his lover’s erection. Holding Sam in place as he rubbed his own hard cock boldly against the young man’s ass, his dick fitting perfectly against the curves of his lover’s body. Truly these pants left little to the imagination.

“Alright, no leash…” Dean conceded, even as the fingers of his other hand brushed lightly over Sam’s neck where a collar would rest against his skin. His fingers tracing an imaginary band around the young man’s throat as he licked Sam’s lips teasingly.

“But I’d still like to see you in a collar. Please? Just for me? Maybe some cuffs? Just thinking of you tied to my bed, all helpless, while I have my wicked way with you makes me so hot.” The demon purred as his fingers dipped below the neckline of Sam’s shirt. 

* * *

The slide of Dean's finger along his throat sent a shiver through Sam. Did Dean mean it? He really wanted Sam to wear a collar? The whispered plea had him conflicted. He wanted to please Dean, wanted to do that more than anything. Before he could answer, Dean was describing what he'd do with a pair of cuffs. All Sam knew was that he was suddenly imagining it himself, and moaning softly, wanting to badly to turn in Dean's arms and rub against him.

He bit his lip and closed his eyes for a moment, his hand moving over Dean's and pressing, wishing it were over his cock but too self conscious to do that here. The way Dean was subtly still touching him under his shirt was driving him crazy in a way such a small movement shouldn't. He was smart enough to know that maybe it wasn't just how he was being touched, but the things Dean was saying and making him imagine.

Opening his eyes slightly, he saw the the swaying body of the man who was tied up, heard him stutter out a plea to be touched.

"I..." he let out a hot breath. "Ah... I haven't ever..." That had him blushing in the dark. Of course Dean would know that he hadn't done anything like this. "Okay... maybe." He licked his lips and sought Dean's mouth, demanding a kiss. He wasn't sure whether it was for reassurance or as an incentive, but it was what he needed, and Dean wasn't slow about giving it to him. When the blistering hot kiss was over, Sam was almost incoherent and would probably have agreed to anything. "Yeah.... okay... whate... you want."

* * *

Dean closed his eyes and breathed in deep his lover’s scent, spicy with nervousness and sweet with arousal, it was utterly intoxicating. Desire warring with modesty, pleasure with uncertainty. As he waited for Sam’s answer demon didn’t push any harder. He wanted Sam to make up his own mind, and he wanted the young man to come to him willingly in all things.

Well, mostly willingly anyway. Dean knew he was playing a little dirty, teasing the young man while he was already so aroused he could taste it on his lover’s skin when he brushed his lips over his cheek. But if he was being a little manipulative now he was sure Sam would forgive him later when the young man was screaming his name in pleasure.

His fingers drifted up again along Sam’s neck, his thumb rubbing small circles along the young man’s pounding pulse, his fingers caressing along his jaw. The whispered agreement was barely out of Sam’s mouth, and Dean’s smile was wiped away by his lover’s lips practically crushing his own. The demon didn’t hesitate thrusting his tongue between those sweet lips, making love to the young man’s mouth and greedily stealing Sam’s breath away. He was more than a bit breathless himself when they finally parted.

“You won’t be sorry, I promise.” Dean reassured the young man, pressing a few more gentle kisses to Sam’s cheek, jaw, and neck before he reluctantly released his lover. As much as he would have liked to continue what they were doing already they were in a state that was far from decent.

He took Sam’s hand once more and led the young man deeper into the tent. It was actually quite large and with multiple sections partially closed off from each other. This, was just the demonstration area, and as fun as it was watching Sam’s reactions to the performers on stage, it was more fun to actually participate.

The next area was just what he hoped it would be, rows of stalls full of merchandise to buy. There was one stall full of dildos of varying sizes and shapes, vibrators, and butt plugs. Another stall carried various clothing items, mostly made of leather, that revealed far more than they concealed. Yet another stall was full of scented oils for different purposes. There were racks of whips. Paddles. Gags and blindfolds.

Dean grinned, glancing at the young man at his side and hoping Sam didn’t have a stroke looking at the more creative, and even scary, looking items available for purchase. He had a feeling the boy wouldn’t be chatting up the stall owner who was selling fucking machines, despite they were rather ingenious devices.

“Come on.” The demon urged, gently tugging Sam along through the crowded isles, and eventually coming to a stall that sold high quality looking collars. 

* * *

Sam almost whimpered when Dean broke the kiss off and moved away. His skin felt tight and hot, he was hard and needy, and now there was too much space between them. Before he could complain or beg to go to the car, Dean's hand closed around his own, and he was being dragged deeper into the large tent, away from the show. No, he really didn't want to see anything else, he was done with the sight seeing. All he wanted was to be held tight in Dean's arms again, wanted to be mouth to mouth, wanted Dean to put out the fires he'd started.

Even as those thoughts tumbled through his head, they slowed down and he found himself staring at the goods displayed at various stalls. Some things, he knew exactly what they were for, and they had him coloring from embarrassment. Some scared the hell out of him, especially things that went into your body, like the dildos. Some of them were so fucking big, he had to wonder how anyone would survive a night of that kind of 'fun.' A giant fist had him shuddering and walking into Dean.

He took a deep breath, then saw a gadget. Frowning, he moved closer to the stall to inspect it. But the minute the seller asked what kind of chastity device they were interested in, Sam immediately drew back and gripped Dean's hand tighter, following him much quicker now. Course he couldn't shut off his mind and was mentally working out how that device worked. When he realized he was also coming up with better alternatives for the design, he wanted to scream. And no, he didn't want to think on how to improve those mechanical dicks either... he could already see he was gonna have nightmares of a whole different sort tonight!

Then Dean stopped in front of a stall which carried collars and, from the intense way he was looking over the goods, Sam could tell this was important to Dean. Running a hand through his hair, he tried to put the other stuff out of his mind.

"I don't like the spiked ones," he said in a low voice, thinking no one could hear him, but he was wrong, it drew the seller over.

"Interested in puppy play?"

From the way the guy was looking at him, Sam knew he was thinking Sam was anything but a puppy. "No, just... ah..."

"No need to be shy. Look," the man pointed at the collar he was sporting. It said 'Jenny's bitch' on it. "We can put anything you want on many of these collars. They're all made of the finest quality." As if he suddenly realized it was Dean who'd do the buying, he looked at Dean. "Here are some fine examples in... leather, silver, titanium... which is nice and light, but strong. Oh, here's a patent leather one."

* * *

If Sam held his hand any tighter the boy might start cutting off the circulation in his fingers, Dean couldn’t help but think with an amused grin. The poor boy looked so out of his element. Nervous as hell but still aroused almost to the point of pain and it was an intoxicating mix. It made Dean just want to pull the boy into a corner and half him quick and dirty. But that could wait. Anticipation was part of the fun after all.

Dean couldn’t help but grin however how Sam edged even closer to him, as though looking for protection, from the friendly shop owners who addressed him. He released his lover’s hand to wrap his arm comfortingly around the boy’s waist instead, his palm running soothing circles between the young man’s shoulder blades.

“I’m looking for something extra special. I like to do the etching myself.” Dean told the stall owner as his eyes slid over the higher end goods the man was pointing out. Finally resting on a velvet pillow under a case he saw exactly what he was looking for.

The platinum band was plain except for the simple Celtic knot work lining the top and bottom and it shown brilliantly even in the dim light of the tent. The hinge was almost completely hidden and would look like one solid band when closed.

“Let me see this one.” Dean pointed to the collar and the sales clerk was all too happy to open the case and hand it to him. Dean picked it up and ran his fingers along the inside lining, the leather was butter soft, it could be worn for hours without the slightest discomfort. Best of all however was the small but well made lock Dean saw and the key that went with it. Dean could keep the key with himself and that would ensure Sam, or anyone else, could not remove it himself.

“Here, lets try this on.” The demon all but purred as he turned to Sam, lifting the collar and fastening it around the boy’s throat with a small mechanic click. It fit perfectly. Dean ran his fingers along the edge of Sam’s skin above the collar and moaned softly, tugging Sam to him and kissing the boy just shy of obscene.

“Beautiful.” He whispered against Sam’s lips before reluctantly pulling away. 

* * *

With Dean massaging him, Sam found it hard to concentrate. It was only his fear of ending up with something like what the stall keeper was wearing that kept him from allowing his eyes to close and nuzzling Dean's neck... even in public. When Dean said that he would etch the inscription himself, Sam was surprised. He'd had no reason to think that Dean knew how or would have the equipment to do it. Or maybe he meant he'd need time for them to discuss what to put on a collar and then get it done elsewhere. Really, 'bitch' wasn't something Sam was prepared to wear. Unless Dean really really wanted it, and then it would have to be on the underside of the collar. Course there was the fact that sometimes it was like all Dean had to do was touch him and offer a kiss, or look at him in a way that melted his core, and Sa was putty in the man's hands.

Sam leaned in to look at the platinum collar Dean had selected and was inspecting. It was nice and plain, the celtic designs on it very narrow. Best of all, it looked nothing like a dog collar to him. When Dean turned it upside down, Sam ran his finger over the soft suede lining. He hadn't expected the metal to be lined. The locking mechanism was tiny, almost invisible. Before he could investigate it more thoroughly while trying to ignore the stall keeper who was watching them too closely, Dean had it on him. Sam didn't know if it was the clicking noise of the collar locking, or the way it looked, but one of those things had Dean pulling him into his arms and kissing him like they were already in the car, the way Sam had wanted to be.

Dean's moan vibrated through Sam. As Dean pulled away, Sam instinctively followed, his mouth rubbing against Dean's for another second or two before they parted. The heat in Dean's eyes was... holy hell, yeah, Sam wanted the collar. Suddenly wanted it as badly as Dean did. He barely glanced at the mirror the seller put in front of him. It wasn't how it looked on him that was important, Sam now realized. It was Dean's reaction that was important, and Sam couldn't have asked for more.

He licked his lips and nodded at Dean. "This is the one."

"Perfect. I couldn't have chosen better myself," the seller said, reaching for the collar which had the small key dangling from it by a string. "I'll just wrap it up."

* * *

When the stall owner reached for the collar, Dean caught his wrist before the man could touch it and shook his head. He didn’t want anyone touching the collar, or Sam, for that matter.

“He’ll wear it now.” The demon stated, his tone wasn’t hard or demanding but it still broke little argument. When he released the man’s wrist he untied the key from the collar and palmed it. He would keep it with him until he found a chain to put it on that he could wear around his own neck.

“How much?” Dean didn’t even bat an eyelash as the seller ran off the total for him and he paid by credit card. All the while one of his hands either running along the smooth metal collar or the skin above or below it on Sam’s neck, not even stopping when he went to sign the payment slip.

“Lets look around just a little bit more, then we can leave, I promise.” Dean told the young man. Leading Sam through the stalls now with his arm around the other man’s shoulders, his fingers constantly brushing against the flesh of his lover’s neck. Dean was quick. As he promised. He found some nicely scented massage oils that they would definitely be making use of later on. A pair of nicely made leather cuffs. A soft cat o’ nine tails he couldn’t wait to try out on the boy. Then, much to Sam’s surprise he was certain, a sterling silver cock ring. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at the deep shade of red the young man turned when he insisted on buying it for him.

“Where are the dressing rooms?” Dean asked the last stall keeper and she pointed him towards the very back of the tent. With all of his purchases in hand, Dean led the young man quickly back to the curtained off areas. They wouldn’t be making it to the car. But with the noises he could already hear coming from the area they were heading, he didn’t think anyone would mind if he made Sam scream.

* * *

"Dean?" Sam started to protest at the cost of the collar which was more than months of his boarding and living costs at school but didn't say anymore when both Dean and the seller went about their business and completed the transaction. He rubbed his finger back and forth across the smooth surface of the collar as he waited, wondering at the way... the look in Dean's eyes when he stopped the man from taking the collar off. It was clear that Dean really liked it. Sam guessed he shouldn't feel guilty about the cost when it was maybe meant for Dean just as much if not more than for himself. Clearly he had some research to do about collars and such, because there was an undercurrent he was missing and he just couldn't leave it at that.

When Dean draped his arm around his shoulder's, Sam felt himself edge closer, and smiled as Dean gave him a light massage. He was really getting used to this, the public displays of affection. That was a good thing, because he did love touching and being touched by Dean. He laughed softly at some of the things they looked at, and shook his head 'no' at some of the things Dean picked up and showed him or threatened to buy. He deliberately avoided looking into mirrors because he was sure he was flushing to a deep shade of purple, both from embarrassment and because he was still turned on. He couldn't help it, and he didn't think it was only the things they were looking it, it was mostly how Dean looked at him, the heat in the man's eyes made Sam burn with need. Then there were the touches of his hands, and the low gravelly voice near his ear, whispering dirty things, then sweet, and then dirty again. Whipping up his need, and Sam didn't know if it was intentional, or just a side effect of hanging with Mr. Sex on legs.

Dean had him smelling some massage oils and they picked one. Though thoughts of how they'd use it had Sam's mind swirling, he wasn't all all self conscious about it. The cuffs were another thing, but he'd been prepared for them and just flashing on the two men who'd played 'tie up'... sent his blood surging to his already too hard dick. But the cock ring and flogger, that had Sam practically swallowing his tongue. He couldn't even bring himself to ask whether Dean was serious before Dean paid for them.

Next thing he new, Dean was dragging him toward some dressing rooms. "What... what are we going to try on?" he asked perplexed. They hadn't selected any clothes and they'd already bought some things, the type of things you couldn't return, or so he figured. "Dean?" Hearing sound that distinctly sounded like sex, he frowned just as he was pulled into curtained room with a bit mirror, a wooden post and a plush bench shaped chair. "Ah..." Suddenly Dean was in his space again, and Sam could barely think as he swayed toward him

* * *

Dean merely hushed Sam, barely restraining himself long enough to pull the curtain closed behind him, before he was on the boy. Their bodies fitting together as through they were made for each other as he pushed Sam back against the wooden post and pinned him there. His lips immediately finding the younger man’s and kissing Sam with passion and abandonment, moaning his desire into the boy’s mouth.

His hands certainly weren’t idle, trailing over Sam’s chest and stomach, then down along his hips, around to the back of his thighs, and then up once more to cup his ass as Dean rocked their hips together. He felt practically dizzy with need, drunk on it, and he barely had enough sense to let Sam up to breathe before he was biting and licking a path down the boy’s jaw and neck.

“Can’t wait anymore. Want you now.” Dean half growled half purred as he licked the strip of sensitive skin just above the boy’s collar. Feeling the thundering pulse beneath his tongue and moaning again as he bit Sam hard there and proceeded to suck a bruise right there.

Dean forced himself away to admire his handiwork and a low moan caught in his throat as he took in Sam’s appearance. The boy looking absolutely debauched already and they had barely even begun. He forced himself to pull away from that maddeningly enticing body. After all, he’d had something very specific in mind when he’d dragged the boy in here and it wasn’t rutting up against Sam like a teenager in heat.

“Stay. Right. There.” Dean ordered very distinctly, bending down to pick up the bags of items they’d purchased that had been dropped and nearly forgotten when they’d entered the dressing stall. Dean dug through the bag and it didn’t take him long to find the restraints he’d just purchased.

“Hands up, over your head.” He told the boy, grinning lustfully at the boy he dropped the bags down on the short bench. Dean was sure that Sam hadn’t noticed the ring fastened to the pole above his head, but he probably would now, and would discover its purpose soon enough. 

* * *

Finding Dean suddenly plastered against him, pushing him into the post, Sam moaned softly. His entire body, every nerve, every inch of flesh, burned with need, need that Dean so easily inflamed with his kisses, with the way he took control and rocked against him. Sam was so hard, he could weep. He clung to Dean, writhing, moaning out his need. He wanted to protest when Dean broke the kiss, but then Dean was trailing hot kisses along his jaw and licking a path downwards. Sam's hand cupped Dean's head, holding him in place and giving a soft cry when Dean sucked too hard on the sensitive flesh of his throat.

When Dean pulled away, Sam looked at him through passion glazed eyes. Hot puffs of air escaped his lips as he stared, yearning for more, and slightly confused. Why hadn't they made a run for the car? He wanted so badly to be under Dean, to be naked, to have Dean's mouth all over him. Mostly, he wanted Dean inside him, putting out the flames he'd started.

"Want you too. Let's go De--"

Before he could grab Dean's hand and drag him out, Dean snapped an order that made him freeze in place. His heart thundered in his chest. Something wild was going through his lover's mind, he could tell. But Dean couldn't mean they'd do it here, he hadn't said that. Anyway that would be crazy. As crazy as Sam listening to Dean's next order and raising his arms above his head.

"Are you gonna search me? Arrest me?" he teased, his voice so thick and husky, it was above a whisper. "Dean?" He watched as Dean went through the bags, but had no idea what Dean was doing. It worried him, as did the absolute lust in Dean's eyes when he looked up. Nervously, he bit on his lower lip. "I can't wait Dean. Want to go to the car, want you."

* * *

Dean chuckled softly at Sam’s teasing as he stepped back into the younger man’s personal space.

“We can satisfy your cop role play kink later if you like.” The demon practically purred, holding Sam’s gaze with his own as he pressed his body once more into the younger man’s. Pinning his lover with his weight against the post and kicking Sam’s legs apart. Inserting his thigh boldly between the young man’s legs, pressing firmly against Sam’s hard flesh. Then he captured Sam’s lips once more with his own, effectively distracting the younger man from what Dean was doing with his hands.

With practiced ease Dean quickly fastened the cuffs to the metal ring above Sam, and then eased the cuffs around his lover’s wrists. Making sure not to buckle the restraints too tight but not loose enough to allow Sam to slip free.

Dean kissed Sam, rolling his hips against the younger man’s, until his lover was practically humping his leg. When he finally allowed him up for air Dean was panting as well.

“I have no intention of waiting.” The demon whispered against Sam’s lips, his hands moving down the young man’s body bold and sure, caressing every inch of his lover’s exquisite body, until he reached Sam’s leggings. He didn’t wait for Sam’s permission before he started undoing the belt and ties. Kneeling before his lover as he pushed the dark material down Sam’s legs.

“I want you now.” He said before taking his lover’s hard cock into his mouth and swallowing him down. 

* * *

He was lost. So lost in Dean's kisses, in the way Dean pressed against him, in how he made him feel. He didn't know where he ended and Dean started. All he knew was his hormones were out of control and every cell in his body cried out for more, more of this, of Dean. He was desperate and needy, his cock ached so bad he was almost aggressive in the way he clamped his legs around Dean's and rubbed against his thigh. His breaths came faster and faster as he got more worked up. "Dean... oh God..."

When Dean stepped away, Sam made a frustrated sound and tried to reach for him. Instead, he found his wrists were bound above his head. Eyes wide, he tugged on the cuffs, then looked back at Dean dumbfounded. Then Dean was feeling him up and all Sam could do was groan and try to move closer, struggling once again against the cuffs. "H... here? Here Dean?" he asked, his breaths puffing out between his lips as he stared in disbelief.

Then Dean dropped down in front of him and an obscenely needy groan erupted from the back of Sam's throat. As Dean undid his belt and got him free of the leggings, Sam's skin tightened, his muscles tensed and every inch of his flesh became more sensitive. "Want you too, oh God, Dean!" he said, his hands clenching around the chain above his cuffs, his eyes rolling back as Dean took every inch of him.

Dean's mouth was hot, and wet, and silky. Sam felt himself bottom out deep inside Dean's throat. "Fuck. The things you make me do. The things you make me want," he said, his hips moving uncontrollably. "Please... please Dean," he pleaded. "Want... need more."

* * *

Pleased eyes glanced up at Sam as Dean worked on the thick shaft in his mouth. He gripped the younger man’s hips hard, holding Sam still while he slowly pleasured his lover. Taking the younger man deep enough that the head of his lover’s cock filled the back of his throat, he hummed and swallowed. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked, slowly pulling back until only the head of Sam’s cock remained in his mouth. His tongue played around the crown, flicking into the sensitive slit over and over and tickling the glands underneath the head. Finally he pulled off of the young man’s shaft completely, leaving Sam wet and begging for attention.

The demon ignored Sam’s pleas as he reached for the lube he’d just purchased, slicking his fingers quickly, and not bothering to warm the oil before he slid them between Sam’s legs. He easily found his lover’s eager twitching hole and began slicking the outside, loving how Sam clenched and puckered under his touch. So eager for more.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you, Sam?” Dean asked almost conversationally as he pressed two fingers past the tight ring of muscles into the younger man’s body in one fluid motion. He easily found Sam’s prostate and began rubbing at it insistently as he quickly slicked his lover’s passage.

“Do you want me to fuck you? Make you scream?” The demon purred, leaning in to lick the dripping precum from his lover’s cock before he stood quickly and withdrew his fingers from the other man’s body. Not missing a beat he freed himself from his own clothing, his own dick hard and weeping already, and slicked himself.

Then he grasped Sam underneath his thighs and lifted him up, the only thing supporting the younger man his hold and the post behind Sam as he positioned his cock at his lover’s entrance. Without waiting for permission he thrust into Sam, barely waiting for the younger man to adjust to him before he started fucking him hard. 

* * *

Sam was thrusting in Dean's mouth, practically grunting as he quickly moved closer to the edge. The sudden loss of pressure and the cool air on his wet cock had him opening his eyes in shock. "Dean, you can't... Dean I need this, please..." He tugged at the cuffs, and grit his teeth. "Please, need it, need to be in your mouth," he pleaded, his voice rising as Dean ignored him and rummaged through the bag. "Dean!"

Before he could start begging again, Dean was working the lube into his hole. The invasion of his fingers sent a sharp pain through Sam, causing him to cry out and roll his head back, but the pain was quickly replaced by pleasure as Dean touched him just right. So right that even though his cock was hard and he still wanted Dean's mouth to be wrapped around it, the little jolts of heat going through him with each brush of Dean's fingers had him almost forgetting how badly he wanted Dean to continue blowing him. "No, don't know what you're gonna do," Sam managed between gasps. He looked up at the cuffs and at the bag, then down at his own half naked body and Dean leaning closer and pulling back, his face sometimes brushing against Sam as he reached farther behind him.

He didn't know why, but a thought wormed its way into his mind. What if Dean was working him up, and then he'd leave him here all tied up? Or what if he just stopped, and stepped away and watched him writhe with need? Oh God, he couldn't stand that. "Please Dean..." He whispered, licking his lips.

By the time Dean told him exactly what the was going to do, Sam was a wreck. His stomach clenched with anticipation. "Yes... fuck me, oh God please fuck me," he said, hardly able to believe it was him doing the begging so loud and almost in public. "Dean!"

He'd expected Dean to go behind him and was completely startled when instead, Dean stood up, lifted him by his thighs and entered him in one thrust. The blinding pain had him shouting out Dean's name once more, his head thrown back as he tried to adjust to the sudden invasion. The memory of how much pain he'd had in the morning was fresh in his mind but before he was able to tell Dean to go slow, Dean was doing exactly what he'd promised, fucking him so hard, making him feel such deep pleasure and pain, that a scream was building inside Sam. Through heavy lidded eyes, he watched Dean. So strong, so damned strong to hold him like this, to fuck him like this. The need, the pure desire in Dean's eyes made him catch fire, made him forget about his fear and just want... want Dean to fuck him as hard as he could.

Locking his legs around Dean, Sam started to curl his body upwards, meeting Dean thrust for thrust. The harder Dean rammed his thick cock inside him, the louder Sam grunted. "Yeah... just like that," he rasped, "just like that, Dean." His world narrowed. there was just the two of them now. He couldn't hear the moans of others, just his own, and Dean's.

* * *

The demon easily supported the young man’s weight as he took Sam just the way he wanted to. Thrusting hard and deep up into his lover, perhaps too rough given how well used Sam already was, but he didn’t care. He could heal any damage he did later and it wasn’t as though the young man protested the rough treatment. In fact, Sam only begged for more. Quite often and quite loudly.

“So beautiful… perfect…” Dean whispered, lust filled eyes watching Sam raptly as the young man came apart in his arms. So wanton and needy, like a good little whore. But Sam wasn’t a whore, and Dean would gut whoever dared called the boy that.

Sam was his. The boy belonged to him and him alone. Sam was only needy like this for him. Sam was only wanton like this for him. And the more the boy begged the more Dean wanted to make Sam beg until he finally satisfied him.

Shifting his grip on Sam when the young man wrapped his legs around him he let the other man’s arms take more of his weight. Sam’s shoulders would be sore later for certain, but he’d happily give the boy a massage later. Right now he used his free hand to slip between their bodies and grasp the other man’s hard weeping cock. Stroking the boy hard in time with his thrusts but as soon as he felt Sam’s climax approaching, he gripped the base of his dick hard to keep him from cumming.

“Tell me how much you want it. Tell me who you belong to.” The demon panted as he continued to move inside his lover seeking his own release.

* * *

Already close to sensory overload, Sam felt Dean shift and take Sam's cock in his hand. He threw his head back and gave a near shout, half pained and half pleasure. His arms hurt, but not enough to take his mind off the heat coiling in his stomach, the pressure building relentlessly within him. "Yeah... Dean oh God," he thrashed and pulled on Dean with his legs, grunting when Dean was more rough. "Fuck me, just like that, just like that," he chanted. Later, he might cringe at his demands, but right now, he knew what he needed and would get it from the one man who could give it to him.

His entire body was coated with a sheen of sweat. He tasted salt on his lips and on Dean's whenever Dean kissed him. Each slide of Dean's fist up and down Sam's cock wound him tighter and tighter, pushing him closer to the edge. "Dean ... I'm..." Before he could tell Dean he was about to come, Dean stopped him. Sam's eyes rolled back, a sound of pain and fury breaking from him until he realized what Dean wanted, what he was asking him.

"I want it. I want to come, Dean. Please let me come... _make_ me come. I'm yours, only yours Dean. Just yours. Please.. please fuck me, please let me come," he pleaded, his voice rising higher and higher as he rode Dean's cock and felt like he was balancing at the very edge of a precipice. "Belong to you. Swear. Only yours... only yours Dean, forever yours."

* * *

Those precious words sparked a warmth in the demon’s chest like he hadn’t felt in centuries. Love… was it even possible for a demon to feel? Perhaps not. But he knew in that moment he would give Sam anything.

Samuel… his brother… his beautiful brother.

Absolutely anything the boy desired would be Sam’s from this day onward. All Sam had to do was ask, and Dean would give it. As long as those words remained true. As long as Sam remained his.

Soon it would be more than just words. Soon he would own Sam in more than just body. He would own his soul and anyone who tried to hurt Sam, anyone who tried to take the boy away from him; Dean would make them suffer. He was never going to lose Sam again.

With those words Dean released the base of Sam’s cock and started jerking the younger man again hard and fast. Fucking into his lover just as hard, just as fast. Aiming for the young man’s prostate with lethal precision with every thrust.

“Yes. Mine. Forever.” Dean breathed, and groaned Sam’s name loudly as he came inside the younger man. Fucking his lover through his release to send Sam over the edge as well. 

* * *

The instant Dean released the base of his cock and started to move his fist up and down his length again, Sam went wild. He bucked and tugged against the restraints, and swore and drew Dean deeper, clenching tight around his cock, encouraging him to release... milking him harder as he Dean filled him up with his hot cum. "Yes... yes... Dean, yours, just yours." He kept chanting, because it was what Dean wanted to hear, and because it was what he felt in his heart. He'd dove into this relationship head first, unable to stop himself, to give himself time to think. Even though it made no sense for a man like Dean to be so interested in him, even though they came from completely different worlds, and despited the fact that this man was likely to tire of him, to break his heart one day, Sam couldn't couldn't fight this thing between with. It was too strong. And it was too good. If felt right, like it was meant to be, like it was what he'd been waiting for all his life.

His balls drew up tight against this body, so tight it hurt. "Dean!" His head jerked back, he squeezed his legs tight around Dean's waist, arching and grinding against him, crying out his name as his orgasm tore through him. He thought he shouted, but his voice came to him like an echo. He was being kissed, but it was fuzzy, like he couldn't remember Dean moving in for the kiss. When he ran out of breath, he broke the kiss and dropped his head onto Dean's shoulder. "Did I... did I faint?" he asked, a little mortified, but very, very satisfied, and still moving gently against Dean, like he didn't want to give him up just yet.

* * *

Dean’s eyes remained raptly focused on his beautiful lover as Sam lost control and came hard against him. The pleasure of Sam’s body clenching around him, practically milking him dry, as his lover thrashed in ecstasy was exquisite as always. He continued to move his fingers along Sam’s pulsing flesh, continued thrusting slowly into the young man’s tight hot body, drawing out their orgasm.

The demon smiled and leaned in to kiss Sam softly when he felt the young man start to sag in his arms. Only held up by his bound arms and Dean’s strength. He chuckled softly at Sam’s question as he still he continued to move, thrusting shallowly and rotating his hips, his cock still buried deep in his lover’s body.

“Maybe a little.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss against Sam’s sweaty forehead. His cock slowly growing soft inside his lover’s body and Dean sighed a little, almost in regret, as he finally allowed himself to slip free and he started to set the young man back down on his feet.

“That was amazing.” Dean complimented, running his fingertips gently along Sam’s hips and sides. Nuzzling into the young man’s neck and pressing soft kisses along the skin above Sam’s collar. “You are amazing.”

* * *

Sam winced at the thought that Dean had noticed him fainting but Dean didn't seem to mind. He either took it in stride or maybe liked it even. He relaxed his muscles as Dean pulled out and then dropped his head forward, resting it on Dean's shoulder. He was drenched in sweat and so was Dean. When his feet touched the floor, he gave a small groan. His arms hurt a little and one of his legs cramped slightly.

"Me?" he asked in wonder, shaking his head. "You did all the work." His eyes drifted closed as Dean's hand wandered gently over his body, such a big contrast to his roughness just minutes ago. "You're the one who's amazing. I can't believe we... I mean here..." he licked his salty lips and then sought out Dean's mouth, kissing him hard, tangling their tongues together.

When they broke the kiss, Sam felt Dean's mouth move lower, once again to the collar. He gave a small laugh. "You're kinda obsessed with that, aren't you?" He didn't really understand it, but if it made Dean hotter for him, then Sam was all for it. "Can I... can I touch you now?" he asked, tugging on his restraints.

* * *

“Maybe.” Dean chuckled softly against Sam’s neck. Both in answer to the young man’s comment regarding his ‘obsession’ with the collar and whether or not he was going to remove the restraints. After all, Dean rather enjoyed having the beautiful boy at his complete mercy and he wasn’t in any rush for this little game to end yet.

The demon raised his head after giving one last playful nip to Sam’s neck. Looking at the young man with extreme fondness as he raised a hand and brushed it through Sam’s hair. Pushing back the sweat dampened strands from the young man’s eyes.

“Perhaps I did all the ‘work’.” Dean said with a grin, purposefully emphasizing the last word in such a way to make it sound very naughty. “But you let me. You trusted me enough to let me. That is why you are amazing. Well, one of the ways.”

With that Dean leaned in once more to capture his lover’s lips in a long heated kiss. When it finally came to an end Dean gave into the young man’s request and reached up to unbuckle the restraints around his wrists. 

* * *

Of course Sam didn't believe he was amazing, but it was nice to hear Dean say so. Very nice. Sometimes when Dean talked to him like that, he felt like he was stuck in a chick flick... a very edgy chick flick, and he liked it.

The instant one hand was freed, he wrapped his arm around Dean's waist, running his palm up his back, and down over the curve of his ass, squeezing him lightly. "It was torture. Not being able to touch you back, wanting to," he said, using his other hand to explore him all over as soon as he was able. Dean's smooth, flushes skin felt hot and slightly damp. "Wanted to put my hands here, and here, and here," he whispered hoarsely, finally slipping one hand between them and closing his palm around Dean's cock. "I get it now. Why... why you like doing it this way." He gave a small smile. "As long as I get to touch you all I want afterwards, I'm good with it."

Bringing his mouth close, he kissed Dean lightly, pulled away and kissed him again. Tangling his tongue with Dean's, he gave a satisfied moan when his lover kissed him back. "You drained me," he admitted, stepping back. "I'm gonna have to keep in shape for you." Yeah, he'd thought he was in shape, but nothing had prepared him for Dean, and restraints and rough sex like they seemed to be falling into.

Grabbing his shorts from the ground, he used them to clean Dean up and then clean himself. Rolling the material into a ball, he set it down and started to pull his clothes on. "Good thing the tunic is long," he muttered a little red faced, when he saw how clear the outline of his shaft appeared through the stockings. "And don't laugh," he added, tugging on the tunic.

* * *

Dean chuckled warmly at the way Sam wrapped around him the second he was free from the restraints. As much as he’d loved having the boy restrained, at his complete mercy, Dean loved this too. Having the young man so desperate to touch him, to hold him, to kiss him… it was nice. Very nice.

“Deal.” The demon whispered softly against Sam’s lips, enjoying the young man’s touches and kisses before Sam finally drew away to clean them up. While Dean was disappointed their recent encounter was coming to an end, he was anxious now to get home. Maybe wear the younger man out a little more before allowing him to fall asleep.

Dean was still grinning at that thought as he watched Sam dress while putting on his own clothes. He only grinned more and gave his lover’s youthful body a very lecherous stare before meeting Sam’s eyes again.

“Trust me, laughing is the last thing on my mind right now.” He told the young man. In fact, he rather loved the way Sam’s cock looked in those leggings. Dean wondered how difficult it would be to convince the young man to always go commando. Well, first things first. He needed to convince Sam to always wear his collar. One step at a time.

Once they were presentable once more and Dean had stowed away their toys in their bags once more, they exited the dressing room. They got quite a few glances from other customers and shopkeepers nearby. While no one actually said anything, there were definitely quite a few knowing and appreciative looks. One woman looked like she’d seriously gotten off listening to them, and one man gave them a thumb’s up. Dean merely threw a possessive arm around Sam’s shoulders and led them out of the tent. 

* * *

Faced with all the curious glances and knowing looks, Sam was glad Dean was holding him close, kind of sheltering him. He gave the lookieloos a half shrug and wore a sheepish smile on his face. _They can't all know. They can't all know. Dude, it's just your imagination. They don't know._ He kept lying to himself until they were completely out of the tent. Taking a deep breath, he looked up into the night sky. He'd bet if he stood under one of the bright gas lamps on the 'street,' his face would appear bright red. "At least we're not running to the car," he muttered, grasping to find the brighter side of ending up embarrassed like this.

He glanced at Dean and saw that the guy was taking this in stride, like he took everything else in stride. Nothing seemed to faze him, nothing.

On their way to the exit, they saw more people dressed in costume. Sam asked if they could get another glass of mead before they left, so they stopped at one of the little taverns, shouted "wench" and were served. Then drinks in hand, they headed back out, walking through the throng of people. The crowd had definitely changed. Sam saw no more kids at all, just adults, and many in outfits that were not at all historical, and covered nothing. When a guy in a Viking outfit that consisted of furry boots and furry briefs... g-string briefs, Sam cleared his throat. "Nice to feel a little... overdressed." Still, since he'd made a racket, moaning and shouting Dean's name in public as they had the wildest sex he could imagine, he knew he was in no position to throw stones.

Once they got to the car and were on the road, Sam started jabbering about everything they'd seen. Everything _except_ what they'd seen and done in the adult tent.

It was real late when they got back to Dean's place. Seeing his school stuff out, Sam started to load his back pack and put away his lap top. "I have an early class and will head out before you get up," he said, looking over at Dean who was bent over and looked like he was going to start a fire. "Could you not?" Sam said, his heart racing a little. "I... I'd rather watch a little T.V. in the room." His palms grew sweaty at the thought of Dean lighting the fire anyway.

* * *

Today had gone even better than Dean had planned. The demon hadn’t had this much fun since… he couldn’t even remember. Well, he supposed that was a lie. The last time he’d had this much fun his brother had still been alive. Samuel… Glancing over at Sam in the car with a fond smile as the young man chattered away about the day they’d shared, Dean felt a sharp ache in his chest. Bittersweet. Longing.

He needed to know for sure. He needed to find a way to be sure if Sam were truly Samuel. He wanted to believe it, so much, and perhaps that was the problem. He wanted Samuel back so much he might be deluding himself, only seeing what he wanted to see. He needed to be sure and if it was true he needed to find a way to make Sam remember who he was.

Things would never be the same, of course. Dean had no illusions of that. Once Sam understood what he was, once Sam remembered who he’d been, everything would be different. But to get Samuel back Dean would sacrifice anything… even Sam’s innocence.

For the moment he would enjoy his time with Sam. He would savor these precious moments before they were gone. It was late by the time they returned to his apartment but despite the fact that Sam was probably exhausted Dean was not ready to end the day yet.

While it wasn’t exactly cold, Dean decided to start a fire, more for the mood than anything else. Yes, it was sappy, but Sam seemed to enjoy these little displays of old fashioned romantic gestures. When the younger man spoke up however, asking him not to light the fire, Dean looked at him over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. He could hear the nervousness in Sam’s voice, hear his racing heart… just like the bathroom when Dean had lit the candles. The sudden memory of his beloved brother tied to a stake, flames leaping up around him as he screamed, flashed before Dean’s mind’s eye and the demon stood suddenly and backed away from the fireplace like he’d been burned.

“Alright.” Dean agreed, giving the young man an easy smile to hopefully cover up what must have seemed very odd actions to Sam. Instead of the TV however Dean turned on his stereo system, a soft jazz like music beginning to fill the room, and he turned down the lights.

The mood set, he approached Sam, stopping only a foot apart from the younger man and held up his hand in an unmistakable gesture. “Dance with me?” 

* * *

The way Dean abruptly moved away from the fire place had Sam feeling even more like a freak. Had he maybe spoken sharply? Given away his strange phobia? His mind started to work on all sorts of explanations he could make, reasons he could give for not wanting the fire on. As he twisted himself into a nervous knot, he didn't even notice Dean moving closer to him.

Suddenly, Dean was there. Smiling at him. Arm up in the air and asking him to dance. Giving a smile in response, Sam immediately took Dean's hand and allowed Dean's other arm to close around him. He put his own arm around Dean and buried his face in Dean's neck. "I was going to say I've never danced with a guy before. Then I remembered I had, with you," he gave a low chuckle. Course that had been a different kind of dancing. More making love than dancing, he'd call it. And the music had been very different. "Your classy side is peeping through," Sam teased, moving in step to Dean.

They danced in easy silence for a while. Sam had never before felt as sure as belong here, right here in Dean's arms. "Mmm... no place I'd rather be right now," Sam whispered, kissing Dean's throat. "Smell like heaven. Feel like heaven. Wouldn't be surprised if you had wings. You got wings Dean? Hmm?" he kissed his way up to Dean's jaw. "Or a shiny halo? Nah... I think you're a devil in disguise," he decided, thinking about how all sorts of wrong it was to call a sex god like Dean and angel.

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the soft words Sam breathed into his neck as they danced together slowly. He understood what the younger man meant. Even though technically they had danced before it wasn’t like this. This… was almost more intimate than what they’d done that night at Dante’s. Not because it was physical or sexual in nature, but because of the emotional closeness he felt towards Sam right now.

“Hey, I can be classy sometimes.” Dean replied with a warm chuckle. Turning to brush his lips across the younger man’s cheek softly.

“There’s no place I’d rather you be either.” He said sincerely, then the demon couldn’t help but laugh aloud at Sam’s teasing. Devil indeed, if the boy only knew. “Maybe I’ve got little red horns and a pointy tail.”

Dean teased back before he captured the younger man’s lips in a slow easy kiss. That’s what he was in the mood for right now. Slow, easy, and sweet like warm molasses. A complete opposite of the hot, rough, dirty sex they’d had earlier. Dean didn’t just want to fuck Sam right now however. He wanted to make love to him, slow, all night long.

The song ended and Dean finally ended the kiss, stepping back a little but did not release the younger man.

“Ready for bed?” Dean asked though his tone implied they would be doing anything but sleeping. 

* * *

Sam knew for a fact that he'd never get tired of Dean's kisses. This was his idea of heaven, being in Dean's arms, getting kissed and kissing him back, slow and easy. Yeah he knew there were a dozen other ways to get to heaven with his man, but this was a favorite of his, and Dean seemed to know it and to be indulging him. By the time Dean asked if he was ready to go to bed, Sam was so relaxed that he agreed immediately. He did say he'd like a shower before he went to bed and the next thing he knew, he was sharing one with Dean.

Once again, neither of them rushed. They washed themselves and each other, stealing kisses and touches now and again. Maybe it was all that build up of passion that had crescendoed in the changing room when they'd had wild sex. Now they could take their time, enjoy each other without the fire racing so hot in their veins that they could barely think. It was different.

Once they'd come out of the shower and half dried themselves, Dean hadn't allowed him to get into his shorts or even to take off his collar. Instead, he'd taken him to bed and made slow love to him. It was a night... no, a full day and night, that Sam would treasure forever, he thought, finally putting his head down over Dean's chest and closing his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam hadn't wanted to wake Dean up but recalling Dean's reaction to the last time he'd snuck out of his place, after he was dressed and ready to leave, he'd gone back to the bedroom and whispered in Dean's ear that he was leaving for school. The next ten minutes were a testament to Sam's stubbornness and dedication to school because Dean had tempted him in a hundred ways, trying to seduce him back to bed and telling him all the things they could do if he just skipped a day of class. His cheeks burned even now when he recalled the things Dean had whispered to him.  


  
Now it was mid-afternoon and it was between classes. He hoped Dean wouldn't think he was being weird or needy, wanting to hear his voice, but at least he had an excuse lined up for giving him a call. Once Dean picked up his cell, Sam told him a little about his day so far. Then he added, "oh, reason I'm calling, I mean besides wanting to hear your sexy voice," his lips curved at the corners, "I ran into your friend, Carmilla." Sam stopped at the crosswalk and hit the button. He was starving and needed to grab a sandwich from across the street.

He wasn't certain, but it felt like an awkward silence between them. "It's just... she was being... well, you know, like last time. I might have been a little rude to her, thought I should warn you in case she complains. She was just asking so many questions. I... aw crap, she's here again," he sighed, seeing her across the street, waiting for him.

* * *

It had been a test of Dean’s self control that he hadn’t simply tied Sam up to the bed and ravished him thoroughly all day long. After the day, and night, they’d enjoyed together he hadn’t wanted to let Sam leave. But he hadn’t been able to convince Sam to stay either, and he’d certainly tried. The young man wasn’t ready. Not yet. To give up his old life and stay with him forever. But soon he would be. Dean could be patient until then.

Almost reluctantly before Sam had left he’d unlocked the collar from around the boy’s neck. He’d spent all morning inscribing the delicate runes around the outside of the collar that would mark Sam as his and protect him. Once he placed it around Sam’s throat again the magic would prevent it from being removed by anyone but him.

He was just admiring his finished handiwork when his phone rang and Dean smiled as he answered and heard Sam’s voice.

“I was just thinking about you.” Dean answered, and it wasn’t exactly a lie considering he was always thinking of Sam. He listened with a small smile on his face as the young man spoke about his day. However that smile slipped away to be replaced with an expression of rage when Sam mentioned Carmilla.

That bitch. She knew better than to fuck with him. If she so much as touched Sam he would gut her.

“Sam. Don’t talk to her. Go back to your dorm room. I’ll be there in a little while, we’ll have lunch together.” Dean told the young man, hoping his voice did not sound as dire as he felt. 

* * *

Sam was feeling warm all over from Dean saying he'd been thinking about him, and that feeling intensified when Dean got all protective and told him to avoid Carmilla. Like Dean didn't want him to have to worry about the smallest nuisance, or something. He chuckled and shook his head as he started to cross the street. "I can handle her, or... do you think she's going to give away your deepest, darkest secrets? Dean Winchester's most embarrassing moments?" he teased. Embarrassing facts did tend to come out when your friends met up with your boyfriend, it had happened to him, and now maybe it was Dean's turn. If only Carmilla were more pleasant, and if only she were less sophisticated. Though he was trying to deny it, Sam did still think there was or had been something between Dean and Carmilla, and he wasn't so sure it was over.

"But if you do want to meet me for lunch, that would be awesome. I can head over to Guido's," he offered, thinking the well known pizzeria might be more to Dean's liking than the place he'd been going to for a sandwich. "I'll see you there?" he asked, hopefully.

"Samuel, funny running into you again so fast," Carmilla purred.

"Yeah..." Sam looked down at her hand on his waist, then back at her, giving her a questioning look. She was far too close and her arm around him was far too familiar, it made him uncomfortable. Even more so when he tried to pull away and she was holding fast. "I... ah... I'm kinda busy...call."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to interrupt. Are you leaving campus for lunch? I'll join you, then we can have a heart to heart," she suggested.

Some would call her smile 'sweet.' To Sam, it had an edge. Maybe it was just that he was jealous, he conceded, still not liking the way he felt cornered though.

* * *

Sam’s reply was teasing and unconcerned, so naïve of the danger he was in right now. The idea of Carmilla revealing to the young man all of his secrets was not even Dean’s greatest fear. While that would certainly be disastrous, the things Carmilla could tell the young man about him could forever destroy Sam’s trust in him, Dean was far more concerned by the physical harm she could do to Sam.

He had not been this terrified since the day he had watched his beloved brother burn to death before his eyes. After that day he hadn’t had anything worth caring for. He hadn’t had anything he feared to lose. Now the idea of Carmilla snapping Sam’s neck like a twig, or gutting him in the street, left him literally shaking with fear and rage.

Dean felt his eyes turn blacker than the darkest night, his fingers tightening around the phone so hard he heard the plastic begin to crack when he heard Carmilla’s voice. No, she wouldn’t try to kill Sam. He knew her too well. That would be too easy. Too quick. Sam meant nothing to her. But she knew she could use Sam to get what she really wanted. What she’d always wanted.

Him.

She would try to make Sam make a deal of some kind. Once she had a contract on Sam’s soul… if she even suspected how much Sam meant to him, she knew he would do anything to get it back. Even if it meant enslaving himself to her once more for all eternity.

“Sam, listen to me. She’s not what you think.” Dean said, no longer trying to conceal how serious the situation was. He quickly racked his brain for a plausible reason Sam would believe to get him away from the demon bitch. He finally decided on a modified version of the truth.

“She’s not a friend. We worked together once, but she wanted more. When I turned her down she got angry, and violent. You don’t know what she’s capable of. Please, get away from her. Go back to your dorm. I’ll be there soon.” 

* * *

Sam looked at her small frame and noted the number of people surrounding them. "You worry too much, I'll see you at Guido's," he said in a low voice, ending the call and slipping the phone into his jacket. "Look, I have a lunch thing so... yeah, this isn't a good time to talk."

"A date?" She raised a delicate brow.

"Yeah. a date. I'll see you around." As he started to walk away, she threaded her arm through his and caught up to his long strides, her heels making quick clicking sounds on the side walk as she kept pace. He pulled his arm free and looked down at her, wanting to give her a piece of his mind, but her shocked expression stopped him. Had he been too rough?

Carmilla rubbed her arm but kept walking. "Was that really necessary? I'm just trying to be friendly, here."

"I... Look, I'm not trying to be mean, but I don't need company."

"Oh yes, the lunch date." Her scarlet lips pulled into a tight smile. "Let me guess, with Dean."

Sam sighed. "I know there's some bad blood between you two. I just--"

"Bad blood. I'll say, but not the kind you're thinking about, kiddo."

"I really don't want to know. It's between you and him, I've got nothing to do with it. I gotta," he nodded toward the door of the restaurant, and left her, pulling the door open and walking inside. He was seated at a table for two, near the window, and he thought he'd lost her when she came toward him, swinging her hips and her purse, attracting a lot of attention as she slid into the the booth. "Look, I don't really care. I don't want to know what happened between you two. It's got _nothing_ to do with me. Now please..." he nodded toward the exit.

"That's where you're wrong. It's got _everything_ to do with you, Sam. Everything." She took a long sip from the glass of water in front of her.

"Okay, I know you're into him and he's not into you, but that's got nothing to do with me. I didn't take him from you and--" He raised his chin, a little taken aback by her laughter.

"Ever wonder why a man like him would spend two minutes with you? Hmmm?" Her malicious smile was back, like she knew she'd drawn blood. "He could have anyone he wants. He _has_ anyone he wants, you've seen it with your own eyes. He's rich, he's good looking and powerful, oh yes, he can do what he wants. Yet he wastes his time on a college kid? A silly little naive one at that--"

"Okay, that's enough. He never wanted you, it hurts, I get it. But I'm not listening to any more of this," Sam said, standing up.

She stood up too. "You know it's the truth. I see it in your eyes." She put her hand over Sam's on the table. "Do you _really_ think he never wanted me? Does he like to hold you down, tie you up? If he hasn't, he will. And he'll do a lot more, you'll see. But you know what he likes best? Being called _big brother._ I always got a rise from him with that, you should try it sometime."

Sam's nostrils flared. He pulled his hand away.

"Don't you wish you knew the truth? He won't tell you. He's a very good liar. If you don't wish it now, you will," she said, glancing out the window, then quickly taking her purse and walking away.

He felt a little numb. He knew she was jealous, Dean had explained that. But what she said, some of it was questions he'd asked himself. At the club, he'd been pretty sure she and Dean had had a thing, that kind of vibe just came off of them. Did he really believe there had been nothing between them? That Dean hadn't had anything with her? His hand went to his throat, where Dean had placed the collar around his neck. It wasn't there anymore, but his flesh burned where it had been. Of course he wasn't that special. He'd never really believed he was, but he'd liked to pretend. There was a difference.

Slowly, he sat down, stared at her lipstick print on the glass in front of him, and started to go over everything she'd said, trying to make it make sense.

* * *

Dean cursed loudly and finally did crush the phone in his hand when Sam blew off his warning and hung up on him. He threw down the shattered piece of plastic and electronics and ran to the door. Not even bothering to grab his coat or even lock the door to his apartment on the way out.

The desire to simply use his powers, to teleport to Sam’s location directly right now and choke the life out of Carmilla was almost too tempting to resist. Only the small rational part of his mind that wasn’t being driven by fear for Sam kept him from doing so. As he yelled at the valets to get his fucking car he had to constantly remind himself that she would not hurt Sam. That the boy was more use to her alive. That he could get there almost as fast driving as he broke nearly every speed and traffic law on the way to the restaurant.

He made the fifteen-minute drive from his apartment to the campus housing in less than half that time. It was probably a miracle he didn’t get pulled over or cause an accident along the way.

Dean parked the car across the street from the restaurant Sam agreed to meet him at and once more didn’t bother even locking the door as he got out. He still felt Carmilla’s presence nearby and that distracted him enough that he didn’t even watch for traffic as he started across the street. The sudden blaring horn and screeching tires a few feet away from him followed quickly by someone cursing at him didn’t even phase him. Though when the man got out of his car, looking for a fight, Dean glare sharply at the man who’d nearly run him over. The man’s words abruptly cut off, his eyes widening in fear instead and Dean realized then that his eyes were still black.

Any other time Dean might have made the man’s heart explode in his chest but he didn’t care right now. Focusing back on the restaurant and Sam he continued across the street. Dean felt Carmilla’s presence suddenly vanish and he knew the demon bitch had beat a hasty retreat. It made Dean walk faster, afraid of what he would find in the restaurant.

But when he opened the door he was almost shocked by the normalcy he found. No blood. No body parts decorating the walls and ceiling. No stench of death. Just people eating lunch. Waiters going about their business. People talking on phones, or laughing with their companions. Sam sitting by the window… unharmed. No matter how many times he’d told himself Carmilla wouldn’t simply kill Sam he hadn’t believed it until he saw the young man right in front of him.

Relief warred with the rage still making Dean’s blood boil. Anger against Carmilla for daring to approach Sam and at the young man as well for disregarding Dean’s fear for his safety so easily. The demon all but stalked over to the table where Sam sat, his eyes never leaving the young man. When he finally stood close by he made no move to sit down. His eyes raking over Sam searching for any sign of harm.

“Are you all right?” Dean asked, his voice harder than he meant for it to be but he couldn’t help himself. When Sam’s eyes finally met his, Dean didn’t even wait for the young man’s response before he grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the booth. Any resistance Sam might have put up was no match for a demon’s strength and he really didn’t give a shit right now what anyone thought. Even Sam. As he dragged the younger man with him to the restrooms in the back.

The restroom was occupied by one man washing his hands and Dean snarled at him, “Get out!” Which the man was smart enough not to argue with. Once he was gone Dean slammed the door behind him and locked it.

Once they were alone Dean turned on Sam, all but shoving the young man against the door as he forced the boy to look directly at him. Ignoring the young man’s protests as he looked directly in Sam’s eyes. Directly into his soul. If a contract had been made then Dean would be able to sense it. Nothing. There was nothing. Sam’s soul was not bound, not chained… he was fine. 

* * *

Sam sensed Dean's approach. It was like something changed in the room, something palatable. When he turned his head, he saw how single mindedly Dean was walking toward him, forcing others out of his way through sheer presence. Sam would have admired his confidence, his ability to command such attention, if he didn't see something in his eyes. A flicker of pure anger? It had Sam tensing, staring up at Dean when the guy stood over him. He licked his lips and tried to speak, but like everyone else, he seemed to bend to the force of Dean's personality, or else why had he suddenly lost his powers of speech?

He wanted to take the question about how he was doing as a sign that everything was alright, but the hard edge to Dean's voice, and his impatience told him otherwise. What the hell? His heart pounded as he was dragged out of the booth and marched through the restaurant like some prisoner. Even his complaint at the rough handling and the fingers biting into his arm were ignored and, for one crazy moment, Sam thought that if he sat down on the ground and refused to move, he would be carried and there would be hell to pay. But Dean wasn't like that. He couldn't be.

Once they were in the bathroom, Dean's shout at the startled man echoed of the tile walls. Sam took a step sideways, his heart once again leaping into his throat when Dean locked the door and rounded on him. "Dea-" Sam grit his teeth as his back hit the door. He found intense green eyes drilling into him, but for the first time ever, he wasn't sure Dean was seeing him. That scared him.

He took a deep breath and plucked up his courage. "Are you done?" he asked, his gaze dropping to Dean's hand still on his shoulder, holding him in place. "Because if you are, would you mind telling me _what the hell is going on?_ " His nostrils flared slightly, his chest rising and falling as he took deeper breaths and tried to hold Dean's gaze, though what he really wanted to do was flinch away from it.

* * *

Dean blinked when Sam spoke, and it was a little like coming out of a trance. The demon remembered what he was trying to do. Trying to win Sam over. Trying to make the boy trust him. Right now there was anything but trust in the young man’s eyes. There was confusion, and worse, there was fear. Because for the first time Sam was seeing a sliver of the _real_ him, and it was like a douse of ice cold water in Dean’s face.

Slowly Dean forced himself to calm down. The demon’s expression softened and his hold relaxed on the young man’s shoulder, a silent apology written in his eyes at the manhandling. He released his hold from Sam’s shoulder, his hand moving to caress the young man’s face. But when Sam flinched away from his touch Dean froze. Instead dropping his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry.” Dean said softly, and took a step away from Sam, out of the young man’s personal space, and averted his eyes. He struggled to think of a way to explain his rather odd behavior. How could he make Sam understand how much danger he’d been in, how afraid Dean had been for him, without telling the young man everything?

Should he even bother to try? Or should he just let Sam think he was just being an asshole or something and try to make it up to the boy later? But if he did that what was to stop Carmilla from trying again, whatever her little game was, she wasn’t just going to leave Sam alone now. He needed Sam to be on his guard, especially around her.

“I was worried, ok?” Dean finally admitted, meeting Sam’s eyes once more. That much was the truth at least. “I know you don’t understand, I don’t even really know where to begin, except to say the woman is completely unbalanced. She’s dangerous, Sam, and I mean that literally.”

Dean took an almost cautious step forward, watching Sam closely, as he rested his hand on the young man’s chest. Right over his heart and the demon could feel it was still beating hard and fast. Dean wondered how much of that was in fear of him. Had Dean just ruined everything?

“I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.” Dean whispered almost too softly for himself to hear, and it was the complete truth. When his brother Samuel had died it had destroyed him. Dean had sold his soul without regret, his only thought revenge, becoming a warlock and learning dark magic to take the lives of everyone who’d dared hurt his brother. But even once they were all dead his thirst for vengeance was not sated. In Hell he’d quickly lost all traces of his humanity, and all the years of torture and death he’d caused once he’d returned to earth still did not fill the gaping wound left in him by his brother’s death. But now, with Sam, Dean was beginning to feel things again he hadn’t felt in centuries.

He wouldn’t lose that again. He wouldn’t lose _Samuel_ again. No matter what it took. No matter what it cost. 

* * *

It was like day and night. The fury filled man who'd grabbed him and dragged him through a restaurant filled with people, who'd barked at an innocent occupant of the restroom and then slammed the door shut, locking it, a man who sent shivers of fear down Sam's spine, was gone. In his place was Dean. Dean who spoke gently to him, Dean who touched him like he was sorry, like he meant every word he spoke. Dean who looked at him like he was relieved to see him, like he had been scared too. Like he might still be a little scared.

Sam didn't know what to make of it. He was a little confused, a little worried. In the deepest recesses of his mind, he knew he should be even more worried than he was, he should question and look more closely at this, at wanting to be with someone who might have a short fuse, who might be too controlling. All of this he knew, and more. He knew Carmilla was right. That he was lying about there having been nothing between them. Worse, that some day, Dean would tire of him and move on. That he wasn't as special as this man could make him feel. And yet, he wasn't sure he could give him up just yet.

He licked his lip and gave a small nod. "I'm fine. She just had to get some things off her chest and had to make me listen." Sam had hinted and asked her to leave, she'd stuck around just to tell him things that would make him question, would make him miserable if he thought on them too long. "Actually, you scared me more than she did," Sam said, holding Dean's gaze, his hand moving to Dean's bicep. "Unless you think she's the kind to wave a gun around, maybe you over reacted?" He glanced at the closed door, then back at Dean.

He should run, but he didn't want to. Instead he was swaying toward Dean, asking him silently to make things better.

* * *

Was the boy even fucking _listening_ to him? Sam thought he was overreacting. Thought he was nothing more than a stupid controlling asshole. Sam was more scared of him, of what he’d done, when Dean was only trying to protect him, than that demon whore. It was obvious that Sam didn’t believe him. That his warnings that the woman was dangerous, that she was violent, that Sam didn’t know what she was capable of, was falling on deaf ears.

“I was not overreacting.” Dean snapped and for a second the elder man’s eyes grew hard again and he forced himself to look away from Sam. Dropping his gaze and breathing hard for a moment trying to regain control of his wild emotions. Frustration clawing at him and he had to resist putting his fist through the wall or something just to let off a little steam.

Just what the hell had that demon bitch told Sam? Enough that the younger man was already doubting him. Enough that Sam was… afraid… of him. Maybe this had been Carmilla’s plan all along. Or at least the beginnings of it. Turning Sam against him.

And Dean wasn’t exactly making it hard for her the way he was acting, if the way Sam was looking at him was any indication.

“I told you we used to work together. That’s not exactly true. In truth I worked _for_ her. For a long time…” Dean began, his voice soft. Trying hard not to let his turmoil bleed into his words too much, but he knew he wasn’t entirely successful. As he told Sam things he’d never told another soul.

“I’m not proud of a lot of the things I did for her but I didn’t exactly have a choice. Yes, during that time we were… together. But it sure as hell wasn’t my choice. Once my… contract… was up I got out. I got away from her, but she still shows up every now and then to try to fuck up my life.” The demon continued, finally forcing himself to look up at Sam again. His face deadly serious.

“Wave a gun around? No. That’s not her style. But there are worse things she could do to… hurt you. To try to get to me.” Dean said as he shifted closer to Sam, close enough that their chests nearly touched. The hand he had on Sam’s chest moving up to caress the young man’s throat and then slide around to the back of his neck. His other hand slipping around Sam’s waist, tugging Sam closer.

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. This was definitely not the time, but the fear and adrenaline and need to get to Sam, to keep him safe, was morphing now into a different kind of need. A need to prove to himself that Sam was all right. That Sam still trusted him. Still wanted him.

“I’m not the one you should be afraid of.” 

* * *

There was a long silence. Or maybe it was just a couple seconds, but to Sam, if felt like forever. Was Dean thinking of a line to feed him? He wished questions like that weren't creeping into his thoughts, damn that Carmilla. He'd had enough self doubts before, then she'd added to them, and forced him to faced some truths. And now Dean had acted like he was about to explode over nothing and all Sam wanted was some reassurance. He wished he could start the day over. Then he'd do everything different, starting with maybe cutting school and missing out on Carmilla.

When Dean admitted he'd lied, Sam held his breath. He wasn't sure what to expect. Wasn't even sure he wanted to hear the details of Dean's steamy relationship with Carmilla since she'd hinted enough about it. But then the lay of the land changed and it felt like the ground was cut out from under Sam's feet. He could practically feel Dean's pain as the guy spoke, telling him things that had to be difficult to speak about. Sam was perfectly aware that the Dean was leaving things vague, that he was giving no details, but the details didn't matter. He wasn't going to force Dean to relive a horrible time of his life, it was probably a big thing that he'd gotten this much from him.

As Dean gave voice to his fears that Carmilla would get between them, just to get to Dean, Sam felt Dean's hand on him, touching him, drawing him close, like he needed him... like subconsciously, he needed to be closer, to sooth his fears. Maybe to confirm Sam was still here, with him. Sam's eyes closed. His mouth burned, craving Dean's touch. His heart pumped faster and, this time, it had nothing to do with fear. He felt Dean drawing closer, the heat from his body seeping right through Sam's clothes.

"It's okay. I'm not afraid anymore." Forcing his eyes open, Sam cupped Dean's face. "I get it. It's hard to talk about sexual harassment," he gave a nod. "And she's put you through stuff. But she's not gonna get between us. I won't let her use me to hurt you again. I won't," he vowed, leaning in and slanting his mouth across Dean's, kissing him hard. "I'm yours Dean, and there's nothing she can do about it. Nothing," he whispered, pressing closer and bring his mouth over Dean's again. "Yours."

* * *

Dean could feel Sam’s breath quicken a little against his lips, they were so close, but this time the demon knew it was not in fear. Sam believed him. Sam still trusted him. Sam wasn’t afraid of him. Dean almost couldn’t believe it. It has been so… easy. And all he had to do was tell the truth. Well, a very vague version of it at least. And Sam believed him.

He almost laughed when Sam called it sexual harassment. Well, Dean supposed it was, in a way. In a very, very, very, _very_ , understatement of the year kind of way. Carmilla would probably consider that amusing. It was a good thing she wasn’t here to hear it. If she was, Dean would have ripped out her throat.

Dean wanted to explain to the younger man that he wasn’t afraid of _himself_ being hurt. But then Sam was kissing him and talking was suddenly the last thing on Dean’s mind. He returned the young man’s kiss with equal intensity, panting a little when they pulled apart.

He was glad he didn’t immediately silence Sam with another heated kiss, because Sam was saying exactly what Dean wanted to hear. Exactly what he needed. He wondered if Sam knew it would make him so hot. That it was exactly the thing to say to make Dean fuck the beautiful boy against the door right now.

Unfortunately a knock and voice from the other side of the bathroom door ruined Dean’s sinful plans.

“Hello? This is the manager. Is everything all right in there? Do I need to call the police?”

Dean groaned as he buried his face in Sam’s neck, his hand trailing down to the boy’s ass, squeezing and pulling the young man’s lower body flush against his. Just so Sam could feel how much he’d affected him.

“They probably think I’m murdering you in here or something.” Dean murmured, biting and sucking a little at his lover’s neck. Feeling Sam’s pulse quicken beneath his tongue. “Think they’d break the door down if I made you scream?”

* * *

The heat, the intensity in Dean's eyes before he took his mouth again, made his heart clench. God, he burned for this man. Not just in body, he'd fallen for him and Sam didn't think there was anything Carmilla, or anyone else, could tell him that could make him want to be anywhere but in Dean's arms for as long as Dean would have him. Then they were kissing again, and Sam was sure they weren't stopping there when the loud banging gave him a start.

Dean seemed to recover first, though he was still holding him tight against him. So tight, Sam could feel Dean's throbbing erection pressing against him. The knowledge of how hard Dean was, how badly he wanted to fuck him had Sam groaning, his fingers digging into Dean's shoulders, clinging to him like he couldn't bear to let go even as a flush of embarrassment crept up his cheeks.

He thought Dean was going to help him straighten up and pull himself together, but he was way off the mark. Dean was licking and sucking on his throat, wreaking havoc with Sam's senses. "Oh God. I think... I think I'm gonna scream now," he said, his voice sounding breathy.

"Sir? Please open the door. Hello?"

"I think they're gonna call the police," Sam said, writhing unconsciously against Dean, barely able to think beyond what that sinful mouth of Dean's was doing to him. "We... we better.... fuck," he swore. "I mean go." Biting his lip, he used the pain to try to bring himself to his sense.

A fist pounded on the door, and there was a second voice coming from beyond it.

"Let's get outta here. Forget lunch. Dorm's five minutes away," he whispered, rubbing his mouth against Dean's jaw. "Wish I had a hoodie," he added, knowing that once they ran out of the restaurant, he'd never show his face here again after this. "I want you Dean. Want you now."

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but grin against the young man’s throat when Sam admitted how much his attentions were affecting him. He was very tempted to make good on his ‘threat’ and make the boy scream. In pleasure of course. But Sam was probably right and if the restaurant manager did call the police that would only interrupt them and that was the last thing that Dean wanted.

Still the demon couldn’t help but chuckle softly at Sam’s slip of words. Yes, he very much wanted to fuck Sam right here right now but he could wait. Sam’s dorm room was close by. He could make the boy scream there.

So with one last teasing nip to Sam’s throat Dean pulled back from Sam. His hands supporting the young man rather than groping him as he stared into his young lover’s flushed features. God, he was beautiful…

“Alright, lets go.” Dean agreed, taking a step back and unlocking the door behind Sam. When the demon opened the door the manager was still standing outside, his hand raised as though to pound on the door once more, and looking more than a little flustered. Dean had little doubt that somewhere else one of the manager’s staff was on the phone with the police.

“As you can see, everything is fine. Sorry for the inconvenience.” Dean told the manager. Taking out his wallet and pulling out a couple of hundreds that he tossed at the older man. The look on the man’s face was priceless and Dean could barely keep from laughing out loud. Instead Dean ignored the strange look the manager was giving them as he put an arm around Sam’s shoulders and started to lead the young man out of the restaurant. 

* * *

Sam forgot his embarrassment and instead gawked at the hundreds that Dean tossed in the air and that the manager was scrambling to catch. He was still looking at the man when Dean wrapped his arm around him and started to drag him away. "You just... that's a lot of money." He felt his cheeks color, though he was sure he couldn't possibly be more flushed than he had been before. He did feel the stares of a lot of the people in the restaurant, so he was glad Dean had his arm around him, and he moved a little closer, feeling protected.

Once they were outside, under the sunshine, he found he could almost forget the entire incident. The evil Carmilla be damned, he was still gonna have a good time with Dean. One side long glance at Dean's body showed him that Dean was still definitely interested. The way his jeans pulled tight over his package had Sam's heart beating fast all over again. Dean was heading to where the car was parked, but Sam stopped suddenly. "It'll take long to find campus parking. We can cut through the campus to the dorms. Won't take more then fifteen... ten minutes," he said, his gaze now locked onto Dean's mouth. God he wished they were at the dorms already.

At Dean's nod, they crossed the street. Both of them had the same thing on their minds since they were walking fast, real fast. There wasn't any talk between them either, just heat in their gazes whenever their eyes met.

When the dorm building came into view, Sam playfully shoved Dean away and started running. He wasn't sure whether they were racing or playing catch, only that he felt exhilarated by the run, that his heart was pounding like he'd been having sex with Dean for hours, and his entire body was tense with anticipation of just that. Of Dean's mouth all over him. His hands running over him, grabbing him, holding him.

When they reached the door, his hand was shaky. He heard other students around, but was barely aware of them. His entire focus was on Dean, standing right behind him, crowding him. "I.. I got it," he said, pushing the door open and walking through. Before Dean had the door closed, Sam was walking right into his arms. "Own me."

* * *

Dean merely smirked at Sam’s comment regarding the money he’d tossed at the restaurant manager. The boy probably thought he was insane but to Dean it was money well spent if it meant the restaurant staff forgetting about the little incident that had just occurred.

Greed was definitely one of Dean’s favorite sins. Enough of those flimsy pieces of paper could make almost anyone do whatever you wanted them to. It could make people say whatever you wanted them to say. It could make people forget anything you wanted them to forget. Money and power. A powerful combination that Dean had in abundance. It was how Dean bent the rules. Broke them. Changed them.

Dealing with the police would only be a small inconvenience, but one he simply didn’t want to deal with right now. Especially when the demon had much more pleasant things in mind right now. A completely different sin. Lust.

Normally he would have had second thoughts about leaving his car on the side of the road like he had, but right now the demon was all for getting somewhere private the fastest way possible. Even if it meant walking instead of driving. And they did walk. Very quickly. Towards Sam’s dorm room. The looks Sam kept giving him making the demon’s blood burn hotter if it were possible.

When Sam suddenly pushed away from him and broke into a run Dean couldn’t help but laugh as he chased the boy. His blood rushing through his veins fast and hot and the demon felt something almost feral shift inside of him. The thrill of the chase. The hunt. And oh the delicious things he would do to his prey when he finally caught him.

He couldn’t have kept his hands off of Sam if he tried, probably earning quite a few stares from the young man’s classmates, not that Dean gave a shit. When they finally had to stop at Sam’s door while the young man fumbled with the keys Dean pressed up close to his lover. Nuzzling Sam’s neck from behind as his hands slid up and down the young man’s hips, pulling the boy back against him. Inhaling the scent of Sam’s sweat, excitement mingled with arousal, making him purr softly in the back of his throat.

It was good that the boy managed to keep his head together long enough to get the door open before Dean could do anything truly indecent to Sam in front of the other students in the hall. His eyes locked with Sam’s when the young man turned to face him, seeing the fire in them, the lust, burning just as hot as his own was enough to snap the last of the demon’s restraint.

Dean didn’t answer in words. He didn’t need to. Kicking the door closed behind them, shutting out the world, Dean wrapped his arms around his young lover and held him tight as he kissed Sam hard. Practically ravaging the young man’s mouth. His hands almost bruising as they gripped his lover. Literally tearing at the clothing separating them, fabric ripping and buttons flying. He quickly stripped them both to their waists before he allowed Sam up for breath.

Panting hard he pulled back to stare at his lover’s beautiful flushed features, admiring the boy’s swollen lips. His fingers tangled almost roughly in the young man’s hair and without words, pulling and shoving, he forced Sam onto his knees. It wasn’t until the boy was kneeling in front of him, Sam’s face inches away from his crotch, that the demon’s fingers gently came up to stroke the boy’s cheek. His thumb tracing the moist swollen lips tenderly, before pushing between them.

* * *

Dean was kissing him so hard, holding him so tight, that Sam knew he was going to be bruised, that his lips would be swollen. Trapped in Dean's arms, he wished he could make a crack about Dean having missed him this much in a matter of half a day passing, but he was barely capable of putting together any coherent thoughts. Especially once he heard buttons popping and felt his shirt being pulled away from his body and torn off. The sound of the ripping material, the idea of Dean unable to wait, it excited him more than it should... got him rock hard.

When Dean pulled back and allowed him to breath again, Sam stared into Dean's eyes and gasped at the heat he saw in them. Heat for him. The way Dean's gaze was lingering on his mouth, Sam was sure he was going to be kissed within an inch of his life again. He was wrong.

Dean's hands suddenly fisted in Sam's hair, and Sam was pushed and pulled until his knees hit the ground. Dean's roughness didn't scare him. It just told him how badly Dean wanted him, wanted this. He was surprised by Dean's brief tender caress, but Dean's tension was palpable, and his cock was jutting out and already dripping, so Sam wasn't at all surprised at the urgent thrust right into his mouth. He wrapped an arm around each of Dean's thighs and started bobbing his head, mostly letting Dean fuck his mouth at first.

When Dean's breaths sounded harsher, and his thrusts started getting more urgent, Sam pulled his mouth off. Reaching for Dean's cock, he wrapped his hand around its base, squeezing and stroking a little before bringing his mouth down of Dean's tip. He sucked on it, really tasting his lover, enjoying how thick and hard he felt in his mouth. Lips wrapped tight around Dean's cock, he took more of him in, sucking on him, loving how his cock throbbed in his mouth and how Dean's fingers moved in his hair, sometimes tugging, sometimes just petting. Just by the way his fingers curled around his hair, Sam could tell when he was getting Dean more worked up, and it gave him a sense of power he'd never imagined.

He started to move his hand and mouth in tandem, faster and harder of Dean's cock. With his free hand, he reached around Dean's thigh and cupped his cock from behind, pressing lightly groaning as he felt Dean's reaction. His gaze lifted and met Dean's. His heart almost stopped at how dark Dean's eyes had gotten, how fucking hot he was for this.

* * *

Dean’s eyes remained glued to the young man’s beautiful face. Watching in rapt, almost fascination, as his thick hard cock slid between Sam’s lips. He felt the young man’s hands on his thighs but Sam didn’t try to control his thrusts, merely holding on as Dean fucked into his mouth. Taking everything Dean had to give and watching him with devoted eyes.

“Fuck… Sam… so beautiful…” Dean muttered with harsh breaths, the tension building inside of him faster than he wanted it to. But even if he came once in that hot wet mouth he could easily get hard again. And again if need be. The dark desire inside of him to possess this beautiful mortal not satisfied until he had used Sam in every possible way. Even now his urgent thrusts into the boy’s mouth were barely controlled, held back just enough that he wouldn’t hurt Sam.

So close…

A growl escaped his throat that had nothing to do with pleasure when Sam’s mouth suddenly left his cock. The cool air a shock in comparison to the tight wet heat he’d been enjoying before. His fingers tightening in the young man’s hair, rougher than before, further displaying his displeasure.

But Sam wasn’t done. The boy’s fingers wrapped around him tenderly despite Dean’s roughness. Stroking his wet aching length, before bringing his mouth close again. Taking only the tip inside and lavishing exquisite attention to him, like Sam was trying to savor him.

Dean’s breath came out in a harsh rush, a little surprised just how more erotic Sam’s slow deliberate tasting of him was. His fingers gentled in the young man’s hair. Carding through the soft strands tenderly. He didn’t try to thrust forward anymore, didn’t try to force Sam to take more of him. He felt both relaxed and tense at the same time as he watched Sam play with him. His excitement dying down and the building up again slower than before. Sweeter than before. Making him more desperate yet he allowed Sam to remain in control.

“Sam…” His lover’s name panted from his lips, his muscles beginning to tremble a little from the effort of holding back. The young man must have heard the plea in that simple syllable because Sam began to work him a little harder, a little faster. Their eyes met, locked, the heat between them almost incinerating, and that was it.

Dean’s back arched, his head falling back, and his lips parted as his orgasm ripped through him. An almost tortured moan spilling from his lips as his semen spilled into his lover’s mouth. 

* * *

When Dean suddenly shifted from rough to gentle, Sam was a little shocked. Afraid he'd done something wrong, something that had sapped Dean's desire a little, he looked up. The fire in Dean's eyes reassured him. He tried to make up for his lack of experience with his imagination, gauging the effects of his actions by the moans he pulled from Dean. God, how he wished he could be giving head and at the same time getting fucked by Dean. The thought had him so damned hard his cock, trapped in his too tight jeans, ached. He was sure the material was getting wet, that his cock was dripping.

Dean's soft whisper tore at his heart. He gave Dean everything he could, and when Dean started to tremble, to show him a sign of weakness that Sam had never seen, Sam knew this moment was special. He sucked Dean down into his throat, as far as he could, fighting his gag reflex. Then Dean was coming hard in his mouth, and Sam swallowed every drop of his hot gushing cum down and licking his cock completely clean. When he let Dean's cock slip out of his mouth, Sam sagged against Dean's thigh, resting against it. "God, you're hot."

After a moment, Sam kissed Dean's jeans clad thigh and, keeping his mouth pressed against Dean, started to pull up off his knees. His mouth slipped over Dean's abs and stomach, then up his chest when he stood straight. "I need you so bad, Dean," he whispered, his voice husky and rough with need. Reaching for Dean's hips, he pulled him close, rubbing his rock hard arousal against Dean, over his undone pants. Slipping his hands around Dean's waist, he pressed closer, moving desperately against him, "help me. Please. Touch me," he begged, stepping back and pulling Dean toward the bed. "Make me come. I can't... can't wait."

He'd take anything. A blow job. A hand job. A little dry humping against Dean's beautiful body. Anything. He just needed to get off, and he needed it to be with Dean. Pressing his mouth against Dean's, he kissed him like his life depended on it.

* * *

Dean groaned deep in his chest as the boy sucked everything he had to give from him and then some. A shudder passing through his over sensitive flesh as Sam finally let his softening dick slip free from his mouth. He missed the hot wet feel of his lover’s lips around his cock immediately and swore to himself that he’d feel it again before they were done here. Right now he was willing to let the boy rest a moment, watching Sam with adoring eyes as the boy leaned up against him, almost as out of breath as Dean was.

It only lasted a moment however. The feel of Sam’s lips practically burning even through his jeans, his stomach muscles clenching a little, reacting to the need burning in his young lover’s eyes as Sam kissed his way up his body. Dean could feel the tension in the young man as Sam rubbed against him like he was a bitch in heat.

His arms wrapped around the young man, a moan in his throat as one of his hands slipped underneath Sam’s tight jeans to palm that beautiful tight ass. His other caressing up the young man’s bare back, cupping the back of Sam’s neck and pulling him into a fiery kiss. Licking the taste of himself out of Sam’s mouth as their tongues wound together and their teeth clashed, bruised, and still it didn’t seem enough.

Sam tugged at him and Dean went willingly. He knew when the back of Sam’s knees hit the edge of his bed, and Dean reluctantly released the young man but only to shove the boy down onto the mattress. He immediately followed Sam down. Straddling the young man’s thighs. His hand in the center of Sam’s chest he pinned the boy in place, gazing down at him hungrily. Dean licked his lips. Leaned in close till their lips were barely a breath apart but not touching.

“Stay.” He whispered. Felt more than heard. He bypassed the young man’s lips to gently kiss underneath Sam’s jaw. Trailing his tongue down the boy’s throat. Nipping every once in a while. Sometimes softly, sometimes sharper, soothing any sting he left with his lips and tongue. The tip of his tongue dipped into the hollow of Sam’s throat, traced down along his collar bone. His body shifting over the young man to allow his mouth to travel lower over his chest. Finding one nipple, already hard, begging for attention, even before he blew across it. Flicking it with the tip of his tongue. Swirling around. Lavishing enough attention on the sensitive bud until Sam was squirming beneath him before he switched to give the other the same treatment.

While his tongue teased the boy’s nipples his fingers ghosted lightly, barely a touch at all, along Sam’s stomach. It probably would have been tickling in any other situation but knowing how sensitive Sam’s skin must feel it was probably more maddening.

He kept sucking on Sam’s nipples, first one and then the other. His fingers tracing along the waistband of the boy’s jeans before his fingers hooked into them, holding Sam in place to prevent most of his squirming and thrusting. Dean knew he was being evil, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He loved pushing Sam to the edge. To the brink. It was an incredible aphrodisiac. Already his spent flesh was beginning to fill again, his cock taking a renewed interest thanks to Sam’s squirming under him.

One hand shifted down to cover Sam’s hardness through the rough material. Palming Sam much too gently for the boy’s liking through his jeans. He could already feel how damp they were from the boy leaking precum through them. The demon gave the young man a harder squeeze and grinned devilishly as Sam practically came off the bed. 

* * *

The instant Sam's back hit the mattress and he was straddled by Dean, he reached up and started to rise. Dean's warm palm was firm against his chest, pushing him back down. Heart pounding against his chest, eyes laser focused on Dean's mouth, groaning at the sight of his tongue sweeping across his lower lip, Sam gave a strangled protest. How could Dean expect him to stay still when his lips burned for Dean's, and when Dean's hot breaths fanned his face?

The moment stretched. As Sam stared helplessly, he saw Dean's eyes were dark with lust, with a hunger as sharp as Sam's. He took a few breaths, trying to obey, though he was sharply aware of Dean's powerful thighs pressing against his own and of his increasing need to raise his hips up, to rub against Dean. How could Dean tease him like this? Lips parted, his gaze dropped to Dean's mouth, so close... do damned close it made his own mouth burn.

As Dean lowered his head a little more but completely missed Sam's mouth, a small moan slipped past Sam's trembling lips. His eyes slipped closed as Dean kissed his jaw and throat and proceeded to claim him, one inch at a time, branding him with his tongue, and teeth, and his hot kisses. By the time Dean's tongue curled around his nipple, Sam was tense and desperate. His upper teeth cut into his lower lip as he tried to center himself, to enjoy Dean's brand of torture by pleasure and delay.

Warm fingers danced over his stomach, making his muscles clench, his body tense with anticipation. Blood rushed straight to his cock, already straining painfully against his jeans. Sam moaned out a plea. "Dean... please, God oh please." He started to lift his hips and was suddenly pushed back down, trapped by the way Dean held onto his waist band, not even touching him.

"K... killing me," he protested, reaching up and trying to pull Dean down over him. He felt Dean's thigh muscles ripple against his when Dean shifted, driving him crazy. Time seemed to stand still, Dean's touches slowing even as Sam's need ratcheted up until he felt fevered and delirious, trying to move, to get what he needed, pleading for Dean to kiss him, to touch him, to fuck him. He was leaking so bad inside his jeans now he knew he was on the very edge.

Then Dean cupped him, and Sam could have wept. He almost did weep when he found that Dean was teasing again, touching him too lightly. He was about to argue when Dean squeezed him hard. Sam almost jacknifed up, would have if Dean hadn't kept him in place. He raised his hips as much as he could, grinding against Dean's palm, then shouting Dean's name in frustration. Mortified, a blush stole over his face, but whereas he might ordinarily stopped his demands, he merely lowered his voice. "Need you so fucking bad."

Dean's grin made Sam want to find a way to wipe it off his face and replace it with pure lust. "I know you're hard. Don't you want to be inside me?" "Don't you want to fuck me. Fuck me hard like at the fair? Finish what you started in the bathroom at the restaurant, when Carmilla freaked you out." Nothing else had worked, and he'd seen how thoughts of that woman being around him had affected Dean. It was probably wrong, but Sam was beyond caring about right or wrong now. Way beyond.

* * *

Sam’s desperate moans and the way the boy begged him so pretty, so needy, were just what the demon wanted to hear. To know that the young man beneath him was practically in pain from desire. Sam’s arousal so sharp it cut like a knife. To know Sam needed him so badly. Needed him more than anything. The absolute surrender to lust. To him…

But then suddenly the boy wasn’t so submissive. At first Dean was amused at the way that Sam tried to bait him. Tried to force his hand. It made the demon grin even more… at least until the boy mentioned what had happened in the bathroom. Carmilla…

The smile evaporated from Dean’s face in an instant, a dark look replacing it. The amusement, the tenderness, was gone from his eyes now. What replaced it was something far more primal. Dangerous.

He was done playing.

Dean suddenly surged up and his lips practically crashed into the younger man’s. He kissed Sam hard and unforgiving as he squeezed the younger man’s trapped cock again, harder this time. Not quite hard enough to cause pain, but enough to feel more uncomfortable than pleasurable. There was blood in the kiss now. His teeth cutting into Sam’s and the boy giving just as good as he got.

When the demon finally pulled away he was panting hard again. His cock definitely hard, heavy, and demanding between his legs. A drop of blood welled up from the cut in his lip and Dean licked it away. Then he was working single mindedly at the young man’s jeans. Practically snapping the button in his haste to get it undone and only taking enough care with the zipper not to do injury.

He yanked the rough wet material down along with Sam’s boxers to the young man’s thighs. The sight of Sam’s cock, so hard the boy could probably pound nails with it and flushed red with desire made Dean groan. But he gave it absolutely no attention as he grabbed Sam’s hips and flipped him over. Pulling Sam’s hips off the bed, exposing his ass to him. One of his hands moving to the back of the boy’s neck and shoving Sam’s upper body down to the bed and holding him there.

A quick glance around found Dean what he needed. A bottle of hand lotion Sam probably used when he whacked off. It would do. One-handed Dean squirted a bit onto his fingers and then shoved two inside the young man with little preamble. Moaning in his throat how Sam bucked and how his inner muscles tightened around his fingers, both from the cold and rough intrusion. Dean didn’t stop or even slow down, working his fingers in and out of the boy’s ass, barely loosening him up before they withdrew and with only a little more lotion three took their place. Rubbing Sam’s prostate with every deep thrust of his fingers into the boy’s clenching hole. 

* * *

The flash of danger in Dean's eyes had a tendril of fear curling in the pit of Sam's stomach. Before Sam could say a thing, before he could apologize, Dean was on him like he was done playing. Dean's mouth crushed against his with such force, Sam was sure he tasted blood. And then Dean was taking his mouth with his tongue, kissing him so aggressively, it made Sam weak in the knees. His world spun as he kissed Dean back, trying to keep up, his breath hitching when Dean squeezed his cock, punishing him. He was trapped in a world of pleasure, pain and lust, and all he could think of was that he wanted more of this. Dean sometimes scared him, but Sam scared himself too, by realizing how much he wanted this. That he liked Dean on fire and forceful. That he liked to be the cause of the man's state. That he didn't care that he might come out of this bruised and bloody, he just wanted Dean's lust to be raw and true, to prove Carmilla wrong, to prove his own doubts, about his ability to keep Dean's interest, wrong.

When Dean pulled away, Sam reached for him to steady himself. Dean's eyes were so dark with lust, his mouth red with blood. Sam wasn't sure if he'd ever seen a more beautiful or hotter sight. Licking his own lips, he gave a soft "mmph" when Dean tugged on his jeans, roughly unsnapping the button. The sound of his zipper had Sam clenching his stomach and watching as Dean pulled his jeans and shorts down in one, swift movement. His cock was hard and wet at the tip and he was sure Dean would stroke him, or touch him. His eyes opened wide when instead, he was roughly turned over on the bed. His struggles to push the jeans off rather than allow them to trap his legs were futilel and he felt Dean's hand on the back of his neck, shoving him down into the mattress and pinning him there.

Unable to see, Sam didn't know what to anticipate and got wound up on the possibilities. "Dean?" he whispered his question, and suddenly had his answer when he felt the sharp pain from Dean invading his hole without warning. Tears sprang into his eyes and he wanted to curse at him, but the way Dean moved his fingers inside him, Sam couldn't help responding, squeezing around Dean's fingers, and moaning wantonly despite the pain. He concentrated on keeping keeping his muscles relaxed, though the rough invasion made it difficult. He gave a small grunt when Dean pulled his fingers out, but they were back inside him so fast and deep, he was blinded for a moment and couldn't help the shout that left his throat.

He thought Dean would stop or slow down, he was wrong. Instead, his fingers moved in and out, brushing over that place inside Sam that sent heat lancing through him, over and over, with each touch. He bucked up against Dean's fingers, and pulled away, wanting it... wanting to get away from it. "Too much, Dean, too much," he said hoarsely, trying to get up onto his hands. His eyes welled up. He hurt. He wanted. He didn't want it to stop. But he didn't know if he could take more of this. "Dean," he pleaded.

* * *

“I know…” Dean whispered, his tone almost gentle despite the dangerous glint in his eyes that hadn’t dissipated since the moment Sam had mentioned that demon bitch. He knew he was pushing Sam harder than he ever had before. Showing Sam more of the darkness than he ever had before. Yes, he’d been rough with the boy before, but not quite like this. He could feel the young man’s body trembling underneath him, both from lust and fear, though it was anyone’s guess which one was the stronger emotion right now. But Sam only had himself to blame. For pushing Dean to this. Now the demon felt he had something to prove.

“But you can take it. I know you can.” He said even softer, not sure if Sam would even hear him. He felt the resistance under his hands, how Sam tried to push himself up a little. Dean responded by tightening his fingers on the back of the boy’s neck, shoving his fingers a little more roughly into the boy’s tight hole in warning. Dean would only accept Sam’s complete submission right now. Anything else… and there was going to be trouble.

He couldn’t believe Sam was still so tight, even after the rough fingering. Despite how Dean’s fingers fucked in and out of that tight hole, forcing him open, Sam continued to clench around them in a way that made the demon’s head spin imagining the boy milking his cock the same way. Well, if the boy wasn’t going to loosen up there wasn’t much point to the extended foreplay.

Withdrawing his fingers Dean squirted more lotion onto him and palmed his aching hard cock, still wet from Sam’s saliva, but he slicked himself up more all the same. A little pain was one thing, he didn’t want to truly damage Sam however. Kneeling behind the boy, forcing his legs apart as far as they could go still bound by his jeans, Dean pressed the head of his cock against Sam’s entrance. Rubbing it back and forth across the clenching muscles teasingly… or threateningly.

“Do you love me, Sam?” 

* * *

Despite his pleading, Sam found that Dean wouldn't let up or slow down. Instead, he pushed his face back down to the mattress and forced him to take it. Sam heard Dean saying things to him, but he couldn't understand what they were. All he knew was the pleasure and pain of being finger fucked to the point where he wasn't sure he could take it anymore. He squeezed his muscles, tightening them around Dean's fingers, hoping to slow him down, to stop him. And yet, when Dean pulled his fingers out of him, Sam gave a broken whimper.

His head was spinning. His body was wound tight. He wanted release, and he wanted Dean. He wanted Dean inside him, wanted his mouth kissing him, reassuring him. He wanted to plead. To beg. To apologize.

Then suddenly his knees were forced apart as far as they could go and the jeans that had been pushed down only half way down his thighs were binding him, pressing into his flesh so hard it was uncomfortable. Held down like this, he felt vulnerable. Without Dean's touch, without his crooning voice, he felt alone. Scared. Afraid his fantasies were crashing around him.

Satin soft flesh stretched over Dean's rock hard cock bumped against his hole. Whimpering, wanting, Sam clenched and unclenched his muscles, his hole quivering against Dean's blunt tip. Maybe Dean would be gentle, maybe he'd be rough but reassuring. He could take either those options, but he didn't want it to be impersonal. Just a punishment. When Dean's cock pressed against his hole again, this time more firmly, he braced.

The softly whispered question surprised him. Confused him. Gave him hope.

"Yeah. I love you, Dean." He licked his lips and raised his ass a little higher. "Love you. Please. Please just love me back. I need you. Need you to love me," he whispered brokenly.

* * *

Dean had not anticipated how much Sam’s answer would affect him. The demon closed his eyes as Sam’s words washed over him like a physical caress. His heart beating faster and breath hitching in his chest at the intensity of the emotions that welled up within him. Some so long buried that he did not even recognize them anymore.

“Samuel…” He breathed his long dead brother’s name like it was his salvation. Perhaps it was. It had been his damnation so it seemed only right.

Relaxing his hold on the back of the young man’s neck, Dean dropped down. His chest pressing against Sam’s bare back. His lips brushing over his lover’s shoulder, neck, and the soft skin just behind his ear.

“Let me show you…” He whispered into the young man’s ear. His hips thrusting forward and the head of his cock sinking into Sam’s body at an almost agonizingly slow pace. The tight ring of muscles guarding his lover’s entrance resisting a moment before finally giving way and allowing him inside. The young man’s tight heat slowly embracing his cock as Dean pushed in steadily.

He continued to rain soft kisses along the boy’s shoulder and neck. His teeth giving sharp possessive nips every once in a while that he immediately soothed away with his tongue. One hand remained tight on his lover’s hip, holding Sam in place while he buried himself in the boy’s body. The other traced his fingertips down Sam’s chest and stomach, caressing the tight muscles lovingly, ghosting lower and lower teasingly. Feeling how the anticipation in Sam made his muscles jump and tremble, made him tighten around Dean’s cock inside of him.

“So beautiful… mine… now and always…” Dean whispered as he finally wrapped his fingers around the young man’s cock, giving Sam a long purposeful stroke as he filled the boy completely. 

* * *

The way Dean said his name, Samuel... not Sam, it almost sounded like a prayer. Sam's eyes slipped closed as Dean became more gentle, sighing when he felt Dean's lips skim his shoulder and move to his neck. Instinctively, he turned his head, giving Dean more access to his neck and licking his lips, hoping for a kiss.

Dean's weight pressed him down on the mattress, his hands and knees denting it. "Dean..." he whispered, just as Dean promised to show him what he wouldn't say, wouldn't tell him. The slight prick of pain in his heart at the evidence of what he'd already known and what Carmilla had told him, that he'd never mean as much to Dean as Dean already meant to him, was washed away in the next instant when Dean took him, slowly but relentlessly pushing his cock until he was balls deep inside him.

Sam's breath hitched. His hole burned, but this feeling... of being filled by Dean, it felt so damned right that the pain was nothing. He might have moved, but the way Dean gripped his chest made it impossible. A soft sound escaped him, reaching a higher pitch as Dean ran his hand along his chest and stomach, threatening to move lower, driving him crazy with thoughts of how it would feel. "Please..." he whispered, rubbing his face against the mattress.

When he sensed Dean would touch him, Sam's stomach tightened, his muscles tightening and his inner muscles clenching around Dean's cock. Another whimper left him, and then Dean was telling him he belonged to Dean, and closing his fist around his cock, showing him how true his words were. Sam hadn't thought Dean could get deeper inside him, but he was wrong. He raised his head slightly and arched back, squeezing his eyes tight, and then Dean was stroking his cock.

"Unh.. uhn..." Sounds escaped him. Sam pushed his ass back against Dean's hips, inviting him to fuck him. He'd taken so much already, he could take more. He wanted to show Dean he could take whatever Dean wanted from him, anything. "Fuck me, Dean. Show me," he pleaded, clenching and unclenching around Dean's cock, urging him to take him fully. His cock was drizzling with precum, he was fucking into Dean's fist as hard as he could, but the way Dean was holding him, controlling him, gave him very little range of motion. It was maddening. It was exciting. It had heat pooling low in Sam's belly, and it wound him up, tighter and tighter until he was feverish with need again. "Love me... fuck me Dean, take me."  


* * *

The desperate helpless sounds Sam uttered made his blood burn hot with desire. The needy way the boy tried to fuck into his fist and back onto his cock, but unable to, held helpless in Dean's embrace turned him on even more if it was possible. So many things he’d never thought possible. He never thought he could feel this much passion for anyone. Never thought he could feel so much need for one man. Never thought he could feel such… peace… feel so complete… with a lover.

“Yes…” Dean whispered, rubbing his cheek against the younger man’s as he gave in to the young man’s pleading and began to move. His movements slow at first, drawing out so far only his tip remained in the younger man before he buried his cock deep inside his lover again. A low growling moan of possession escaping his throat every time he sheathed himself completely within the younger man.

His fingers tightened on Sam’s hip, surely leaving bruises but not caring as he held the young man in place. Barely allowing his lover to move at all. Wanting to be the sole source of the young man’s pleasure. Stroking the boy’s beautiful hard cock in time with his thrusts, alternating between cupping the young man’s balls and rolling them in his palm, to playing with the weeping tip. Keeping the young man painfully erect and on edge but not pushing him over. Not yet.

“Never doubt… what you mean to me. Never…” Dean panted softly, kissing the corner of his lover’s lips as he began to thrust harder into the young man’s body as his urgency built. Rolling his hips as his cock moved like a well oiled piston in and out of the young man’s tight hole. 

* * *

Sam's world tilted when Dean started to fuck him hard, just the way he needed it. Sounds spilled from between his parted lips, satisfied grunts, soft please and frustrated groans when he wasn't allowed to fuck back against Dean. He had no control, none. It was all Dean. Dean who decided how hard or how fast he'd piston into him, Dean who angled his hips, who took him, who rode him like he belonged to Dean. There was no doubt in Sam's mind that Dean was claiming him, telling him he belonged to Dean, as if Sam could... or would... say otherwise.

"Yes... yes..." The words tumbled from his lips as he became feverish, the need to thrust into Dean's hand, the need to come building to the point where he thought he couldn't hang on for even a second more, only to be shown by Dean how wrong he was. Sam was so caught up in the sensations, so lost in the haze of lust and desire, that if Dean hadn't abruptly stopped stroking him for the brief moment when he whispered in his ear, Sam might have missed Dean's admonishment that he was to never what he meant to Dean.

Sam's heart soared, but his ever logical mind couldn't help considering the fact that the statement was vague, that Dean hadn't articulated exactly what it was that Sam meant to Dean. He shoved those doubts aside, tired for the moment of having them eat at him. "Nghhh... Dean... Good, so good," he rasped, his muscles tightening around Dean's rock hard cock as he sensed Dean was getting closer to the edge. "Fuck, that's good," he cried out, biting his lip as he felt his gut tighten and his balls tighten against his body.

"Dean... Dean!" he shouted as his climax rushed through him so hard he saw white behind his eyelids, and then he was coming, hard, ropes of thick cum shooting from his dick as he moaned out Dean's name again and again.

* * *

“That’s it… that’s it, baby…” Dean practically crooned, soothing and encouraging in the young man’s ear even as his movements were not all that gentle. Fucking the beautiful body beneath him hard enough that the bed shook and the headboard banged against the plaster wall in an unmistakable rhythm. Not that Dean really gave a fuck about denting the wall or alerting Sam’s neighbors to their activities. As if Sam’s shouting hadn’t done that already. All he cared about was driving his young lover insane with pleasure. Watching the beautiful boy come completely undone under his caresses.

The demon got his wish when Sam suddenly shouted his name. The boy’s seed spilling from his pulsing cock as Dean milked him, his inner muscles clenching around Dean like a vice, pulling a deep groan of pleasure from the demon.

He fucked into Sam harder, letting the last bit of his control slip and he took the boy as he wished. Hard deep thrusts that probably would have sent Sam head first into the headboard if the demon wasn’t holding onto him so tightly. Then with one final hard thrust and an almost animalistic growl he was coming. Filling his lover’s body with his hot come even as his fingers continued to run up and down the boy’s spent shaft possessively.

Dean’s forehead dropped to Sam’s shoulder, panting hard and resting almost his entire weight on the boy. He could feel his come leaking out of the boy’s hole as his cock began to soften inside of him, but he still didn’t move. He kissed the boy’s shoulder, then the side of his neck, but it wasn’t enough. Dean wrapped his arms around Sam’s chest and sat up, bringing the practically boneless young man with him. Sam’s back pressed to his chest, Dean’s cock still buried deep inside of him, as he settled the young man on his lap. He could feel the boy’s heart beating hard against his palm pressed against Sam’s chest.

“Kiss me.” It was an order, not a request. His fingers catching Sam’s chin and turning the boy’s face towards him. 

* * *

If his own climax hadn't been so earth shattering, distracting him from his surroundings, Sam might have felt fear at the change in Dean, the sudden loss of control, the way he was slamming into him so damned hard it made Sam repeatedly see white behind his eyelids. The sound of the headboard crashing into the wall punctuated Dean's almost violent thrusts and were followed by Sam's now soft moans. When Dean came inside him, filling him, Sam's fingers curled around the bedsheets, tightening around them as Dean ground his hips against him, giving a deep cry that vibrated through Sam.

As Dean's hand ran over Sam's cock again and again, Sam was under no misapprehension, he knew he belonged to one man now. To Dean.

His entire body was sweat slicked. He'd taken a lot, strained a lot, and now his head hanged down, as he gasped for breath. The soft brushes of Dean's mouth across his shoulders and neck had his mouth curling into a smile, though even that was an effort. He was tired, exhausted, so exhausted that he limply allowed Dean to re position him.

Sitting on Dean's lap, Sam was very aware that Dean hadn't pulled out of him yet. As tired as he was, the analytical part of him couldn't help wondering if this was another symbol, a way Dean was telling him who belonged to whom. The way Dean made love to him, the collar he'd bought, the way he held him now, puzzle pieces were falling together. Maybe he was getting a beat on Dean. He didn't think he minded. In fact, he found all of this exciting. A little dangerous, but he didn't care.

Besides, he owned Dean right back. He was about to tell Dean, when Dean demanded a kiss. When his gaze met Dean's, the intensity in Dean's eyes took his breath away. He felt Dean tug on his chin, and he followed the pull, parting his lips just as their lips met. He kissed Dean softly at first, his tongue delving into Dean's mouth and swirling very slowly, running across the roof of Dean's mouth and tangling with his tongue. He pulled back slightly, took a deep breath, and then kissed Dean again. This time, he raised his arm up and managed to cup the back of Dean's head as he kissed him more deeply, moaning.

It was so fucking hot. So damned hot when their mouths moved together, their tongues battling... dancing. And then he felt Dean lift his hips up, reminding him he was still inside him, and something snapped. Yanking Dean's head closer, Sam sucked Dean's tongue into his own mouth, leaning back against Dean, rubbing against him.

* * *

Sam gave him exactly what he asked for and more. Their lips met messily, teeth clashing and cutting sensitive lips, the kiss harsh and frantic just as their fucking had been. Sam’s tongue invading his mouth at first, exploring every inch of it, and curling around his own. Leaving both of them breathless. If that wasn’t enough, Sam then sucked his tongue into his mouth and Dean groaned deeply in his chest. His tongue delving into his lover’s mouth with just as much enthusiasm as Sam had shown him. Hot and wet and just perfect.

He only let the young man up for air when he thought that Sam might actually pass out from lack of it. His own breathing wasn’t very steady either. His warm breath panting across Sam’s lips as he continued to offer the younger man softer, gentler, kisses to his lips, slowly working across Sam’s jaw, to his ear.

“I think this was much better than lunch.” Dean whispered, laughter in his voice, as his fingers of one hand mapped out the muscles along Sam’s sweat drenched chest. Gliding down the muscular planes, his thumb lightly brushing across a sensitive peaked nipple on its way lower. Ghosting along Sam’s stomach and finally coming to rest on the younger man’s hip.

His other hand still holding Sam’s cock, no longer stroking the overly sensitive flesh, but still cupping the young man possessively. Dean smiled against the young man’s neck as he nuzzled Sam there. He was truly content to stay like this all afternoon. 

* * *

Sam's head was spinning due to the lack of air, but he never complained. Instead, he kissed Dean back with everything he had and gasped in a deep breath whenever he was allowed to do so. Clinging to Dean, he gave a soft murmur when Dean's touches grew more gentle, more loving, now that they'd ridden past the heat of passion. Hearing Dean's own harsh breaths was comforting somehow, proof that the man was human. The way he could go at it, the way he held his breath so long, Sam wanted to tease him about his stamina. Right now, though, he was too worn out to think straight or even speak straight.

Letting himself go lax and resting his head on Dean's shoulder, Sam allowed his eyes to drift shut. Dean's hot breaths fanned across his ear. Then he felt Dean kiss the shell of his ear and he couldn't help smiling and leaning in a little closer, biting his lip when Dean's hand continued to rove over his body and shivering when Dean's thumb brushed over his nipple. The way he was being held, the way Dean's other hand was still clamped over his cock, holding him gently, and yet firmly, Sam instinctively knew he was silently being told he belonged to the man. Sliding his mouth across Dean's shoulder, he turned his head and kissed his neck, then sucked a bit of his skin into his mouth, tasting salt from Dean's exertions. "You saying that I'm lunch?" he asked, rocking softly against his lover. "If so, I think you must be dessert."

Lifting his head, he kissed Dean again, then rested it on his shoulder once more. "You're a bad, bad influence. I... I think I'm cutting my afternoon classes," he announced, feeling only slightly guilty. It wasn't only that he was too tired to move, it was that he was too happy, too comfortable in the arms of this man, to want to leave his embrace. Ever. "You're not gonna lose all respect for me, are you?" he asked, the corners of his lips lifting slightly.

* * *

Dean sighed pleasantly when Sam's lips and tongue tasted him, leaving warm wet kisses along his shoulder and neck. Then Sam called him dessert and Dean chuckled.

"Well, I've been called worse." He said, pressing a kiss to the younger man's temple. Then hummed happily when Sam bought their lips together again. He would never grow tired of the beautiful young man's kisses, of that Dean was certain.

He was definitely pleased when Sam said he would probably skip the rest of his classes in order to spend time with Dean. Though the demon had to wonder with more than a little amusement if the decision had anything to do with the fact that sitting in long boring classes would probably be more than a bit uncomfortable for the younger man right now.

"Never." He answered the young man's question with a small laugh, but he was also quite serious. Dean kissed the younger man again, letting his tongue play a little in Sam's mouth before he remembered the reason why he'd wanted to meet with Sam in the first place. Before Carmilla had shown up to cause trouble that was. Well, this should help with that problem.

"I have something for you." Dean said once their lips parted, and though he was almost loathe to do it, gently eased himself out of the younger man's slick passage and helped Sam lay down on the bed. He made sure the exhausted young man was comfortable, leaning down to kiss him playfully one last time before Dean untangled himself from the rumpled sheets and got up.

It took him a moment to find his jacket among the scattered clothes on the floor, but he found the collar he'd finished engraving in his pocket rather easily. He dropped the coat back on the floor when he was finished and then returned to Sam, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding up the collar for the young man's inspection.

"I finished the engravings. Do you like it?" Dean asked, running his fingers along the previously smooth band where he'd etched several spells in the demon language. If nothing else, it was very beautiful. But it would also offer the most powerful protections he could to Sam while he wore it, that is, until he could carve similar spells into the young man's flesh and soul.

"It will protect you." That part was at least true, though Sam would probably think it was merely a silly superstition. No matter, as long as Sam wore it. Dean also held up a gold chain with a grin that he then slipped over his neck. Hanging from it was the key to the collar. "And this is mine." 

* * *

If Dean hadn't explained that he had something for him, Sam would have loudly complained about him leaving the bed. As Dean walked away, Sam couldn't help checking him out, like he hadn't just had enough sex to last him for quite a while. If he wasn't careful, he really was going to turn into some sort of nymphomaniac, he told himself, though his gaze continued to follow Dean. Bare ass naked, the guy was as confident as if he was wearing a suit. Sam bet nothing scared the guy, nothing.

Though he was exhausted, he leaned over the side of the bed, grabbed his tee shirt and started to clean himself off. It would do nothing for the musky scent of sex that clung to him, but he was more than okay with that so long as none of his classmates walked in. Course he'd locked the door.

Catching the flash of metal, Sam already thought he knew what Dean had retrieved from his jacket. When Dean sat down on the bed, Sam sat up and moved close to take a look. Once Dean's fingers stopped caressing the collar, Sam saw the intricate etching work. "I want to say Celtic, but... not really," he said, reaching out and running his own finger over the inscriptions. "I do like it," he nodded. "It's beautiful. I think I was expecting my name or yours on it. Should have known you wouldn't settle for standard."

Sam would have taken the collar from Dean, but Dean was holding onto it as he explained that it would protect him. "Oh, you mean stop evil eyes and ward off evil, that kind of thing?" He knew a girl in class who wore turquoise because she believed that's what it would do. "Not that I lead such a dangerous life," he grinned but didn't laugh, in case Dean believed in these things. "What's tha--"

At first, Sam thought the gold chain was for him too, and he would have had to ask Dean not to spend so much money on him. He got that the guy was rich, but it wouldn't feel right to take a lot of gifts if he couldn't return the favors. Now he saw it was the key to the collar. Before, Sam hadn't been so sure he wanted to keep the collar on all the time, and he'd gotten the feeling Dean wanted him to. Course Carmilla's comments also had him a little nervous, but now, hearing Dean would keep the lock on him always, that somehow even things out and made Sam feel better.

Just better? A voice inside his head asked. The truth was, he liked it when Dean got possessive over him, when he manhandled him. Sure, sometimes he was scared... worried that Dean would go overboard, but that could be because he just wasn't used to this type of a relationship. Hell, he'd gone from having no relationships to diving into one with a guy like Dean. Of course he was going to have his doubts now and then but deep down, he was starting to realize he liked the idea of belonging to Dean.

Sam closed his hand around the key and smiled, then pushed it against Dean's bare chest, over his heart. "For as long as you wear it, this is mine," he said, meaning Dean's heart. It might be a pipe dream. Carmilla might be right. But he'd put it out there, because it was what he wanted. To be with Dean always, and for Dean to love only him.

* * *

Dean smiled as Sam examined the collar, the demon pleased by the young man's reaction. The demon language was certainly not widely recognized. At least, not by those who weren't demons themselves. The intricate writing did have a certain Celtic look to it and was pleasing to the eye. He was glad that Sam found it pleasing. It would be much easier to convince the boy to wear it then. The demon chuckled slightly when the boy likened it to some silly Wiccan talisman, but nodded all the same. The boy couldn't possibly understand what kind of power the spells he'd etched into this simple metal band would hold.

The young man's reaction when Dean showed him the key to the collar, and what he intended to do with it, was even better however. The possessive glint that entered Sam's eyes and the young man's bold words. Dean smiled and covered the younger man's hand against his chest. Then he leaned forward and captured Sam's lips in a slow, but deep, kiss. Licking his way into his lover's mouth and exploring every inch of it before drawing back to allow Sam to breathe.

"It's a deal then." The demon whispered, still smiling as he lifted the collar and snapped it securely around Sam's neck. With this he would always know where Sam was at all times. The boy would be protected from all other demons. In fact, most would not be able to come within miles of him. Some of the more powerful demons might be able to get closer but they still wouldn't be able to lay a finger on Sam. None would be able to possess Sam and none would be able to strike a contract with him.

For all intents and purposes, for as long as Sam wore the collar, Dean owned him. And in a way Sam owned him too... The demon liked that idea more than he thought he would. 

* * *

"Deal," Sam whispered back, letting Dean draw him into yet another mind numbing kiss. His lips felt raw. His body ached. He was hot, and sweaty and tired. And yet, he responded to Dean's kisses. He'd always respond, a part of him knew it. And even if he was drained, if Dean wanted it, if he touched him, if he whispered a few words of encouragement, Sam would find it inside him to go another round. As often and however Dean wanted it. His devotion to the man was growing, and it scared him a little. He'd never felt anything this intense for anyone, and wasn't sure it was 'normal.' Then Dean's tongue was circling his again, and he didn't give a damn about anything other than the man who was holding him tight, who'd give him this collar, and who'd promised to wear the key to it, always. It was as good as giving his heart to Sam, even if Sam had a hard time believing this was happening.

When Dean's mouth finally slipped off his, Sam whispered. "Love you, Dean." Curling into him, he closed his eyes, hardly able to battle against the tug of sleep. Before he was pulled under, he managed to whisper, "remote's there, if you..." he trailed off before completing his thought.

* * *  
[Past/Dream]

Most nights, they washed up with hot water filled pitchers and rags, cleaning themselves up. But once in a while, dean would fill the tub up with hot water and they'd have the luxury of a bath. He always let Sam take his bath first, then added some water to take his own bath. It used to be fun. Comfortable. Now it was Sam's nightmare.

He wanted to kick himself. He wished he had control over his own body. He knew it was wrong. He prayed to God to help him, to keep the devil and the devil's thoughts away from him, but nothing helped. When Dean stripped him, when he touched his naked body and helped him into the tub, all sorts of emotions and wrongful desires spread like wildfire through Sam's body. Lust was a sin, though Dean didn't seem to think so when he watched some of the women in town. But what Sam felt... lust for a man... it was unnatural. And lust for his own brother? The thoughts he'd been having of late were enough to earn him a place in hell.

"I... I can do it myself," he mumbled, raising his arms as Dean pulled his over shirt and undershirt off on one go. "I'll be careful. You can finish up your chores," he whispered, his stomach clenching as he felt Dean's breath across his chest, and his nipples hardened in response. His cheeks burned. _Please God, don't let him notice._ There was only one person in the world who loved him. One person that Sam loved back. But if Dean ever got the slightest notion of the things that were going through Sam's mind, Sam was sure his brother would set him aside. Or that he ought to. "Please Dean," he said, his voice thinning as his brother reached down and started to unlace his pants. "I've got it," he said, trying to push his bother's hands away.

* * *

Today had been a relatively good day, much to Dean's relief. The day hadn't been too hot, even though it was the middle of summer, and that made working in the fields a bit more pleasant than normal. The lads from the village he'd hired to help him seemed to be working out rather well, which was also a blessing. For so long it had been only him tending to their land it was almost strange not to have to do everything himself any longer.

But thanks to his and Samuel's efforts things were finally beginning to turn around. He'd sold a few of Samuel's gadgets in town the last time he went to the market with his produce, and he'd made enough to hire some help for the upcoming harvests. With the extra help he could tend to more crops, raise more animals, and in turn gave him more produce to sell, bringing in more coin.

It had taken a long time, years in fact, after father's death but things were finally beginning to turn around. He could buy Samuel medicine every week instead of only when they had extra money left over. His brother was still frail and weak, but he seemed to get deathly ill less often now. He was well more often than not, and it was a relief. Dean prayed for the day when his brother would be well completely, perhaps it was a fools dream, but he prayed for it all the same. Seeing Samuel sick in pain was the worst kind of hell.

"Samuel, quit squirming, you're just making it take longer." Dean sighed, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. He was happy in fact. When Samuel felt well enough to put up protest to Dean's mothering it made things difficult, yes, but in a good way. While it was true Samuel sometimes still protested about doing things himself even when he wasn't well, thinking he was some kind of inconvenience to his brother, Dean could tell the difference. He'd managed to tug off the boy's shirts without much difficulty, but Samuel was putting up a bigger fuss regarding his pants.

Dean sighed again, this time with a bit of annoyance.

"You know your balance isn't that good, Samuel. If you fell, I'd never forgive myself. Now just quiet down and let me do this before your bath gets cold." Dean said, tugging at the strings. As he did his mind going back to several months ago. Watching Samuel fall. The terror that had gone through him. Strong enough he'd practically flown across the room in time to catch his brother, to break the younger boy's fall with his own body.

Dean had carried a few bruises and a lump on his head for several days afterwards but it was much better than the alternative. It was just as well he'd been a bit dazed after the incident because if he hadn't been he might have killed Maureen before she had the chance to slip out quietly. It was still a little hard for him to believe what he'd seen her do. Hitting Samuel like that. Causing him to fall. Samuel was such a sweet and gentle soul, there was nothing, _nothing_ , he could have done to deserve that. No matter what she'd tried to tell him in the market days after.

She tried to tell him she cared for him. That she even _loved_ him. That it was just some kind of misunderstanding. That it was Samuel's fault... that had been the last straw. He'd yelled at her loud enough for the whole market to hear. Telling her he'd never marry her in a thousand years even if she was the last woman alive. Dean was not moved in the least when she burst into tears and ran away. Besides, if she'd really cared for him she never would have hurt Samuel. His brother was in his heart, first and foremost. 

* * *

"I can unfasten my own trouser! Dean," his attempts at shoving his brother failed again. He wanted to scream at him to leave him alone. To tell him he was too old to be helped like this. But anything he said, even putting up too much of a fuss, it could all just draw more attention to the fact that he desperately did not want Dean this close for a reason. If Dean started looking for reasons...

Biting his lip, Sam stopped struggling and tried praying in silence. As he felt Dean's hand brush across his groin, tugging at the lacings, his heart jumped practically out of his chest. Just like that, he was getting hard, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. "How... how's Millie?" he asked about their pregnant cow. "Her time is close, you should check on her," he said, his head tilting way back as he looked up at the heavens and wondered not only what he'd done that he was being punished for now, but how he'd be punished after he'd drawn his last breath.

Again, he felt pressure from Dean's palm, then lifted his hips to allow his brother to pull his pants down. When Dean bent lower at the same time, a small squeak broke from him and he sat heavily back down onto the stool. No doubt Dean would take that as evidence of his instability. "I've ... I've got it, you can hold me up," Sam offered, slowly getting to his feet and tugging at his trouser.

Was it too much to ask that Dean cooperate just once? Instead, his brother went to his knees and peeled his pants down. Lord knew, his closeness ought not have this affect on Sam, but it was like a punch to his gut. His breath caught in his throat. His skin tightened. His prick thickened and lengthened.

Gripping Dean's shoulder, Sam quickly turned his body away and almost tripped when he tried to raise his foot before Dean had the pant's off his leg. A mild curse flew from his lips, he waited, and then put his foot into the tub. Before Dean could help him, he lifted his other leg and was in the tub, splashing the water as he sat down too suddenly. It was hot. His skin quickly turned pink, but wild horses couldn't pull him out of the tub now, before his body calmed.

His breaths, already a little shallow, came quicker when Dean reached for the wash cloth and started to soap it. The thought of him touching him, the thought of his hands gliding over his naked body filled Sam with both desire and dread. ""I can do that," he said, even knowing that Dean would insist on at least washing his back, his hair and his legs. "I feel useless. Please Dean," he looked up and met Dean's gaze, swallowing hard as his mind played tricks on him and made him wonder what it would be like if Dean's lips met his own, just once.

* * *

Frustration bled through the look he gave his brother when the other boy tried to shove his hands away again. Honestly, he didn't know what had gotten into his brother recently. They had done this hundreds of times before. Yes, sometimes Samuel got frustrated and cranky with him about wanting to do things himself. But it seemed to be happening more and more recently.

Maybe it was Dean's fault. Samuel had been feeling better more and more recently. Maybe he should let Sam take care of himself more often. But... he was just so worried about his brother. What if he tried to do too much and hurt himself? Or made himself sick again?

It was a double edged sword and he'd rather take the younger boy's ire than risk it. At least Samuel finally settled down a bit and allowed Dean to unfasten his trousers. He looked up with a raised eyebrow at the younger boy when Samuel suddenly asked him about their cow however.

"Millie?" Dean laughed a little, as he tugged down his brother's trousers. "I'm sure she's fine, Samuel."

Apparently Samuel wasn't done being uncooperative as Dean had hoped when the younger boy suddenly stood up, became tangled in the trousers around his ankles, and nearly tripped.

"Samuel!" Dean snapped, both in anger and fear, reaching out to steady the other boy. His brother barely waited for him to help him untangle himself before he practically fell into the tub. His heart beat a thundering rhythm against his chest and the glare he gave the younger boy was not amused in the least.

He held his tongue until Samuel protested, yet again, when Dean reached for the wash rag.

"Samuel, enough! How many times must I tell you, you are not useless. But you would rather hurt yourself than accept my help. What is wrong with you?"

* * *

When Dean snapped at him, Sam's face jerked up. It wasn't very often that Dean raised his voice, so when he did, it was hard not to notice.

Sam couldn't stand it when Dean was mad at him. It didn't happen often, but when it did, it made Sam feel anxious and awful inside. Now was no exception. Only, this time, Sam was frustrated too. What was he supposed to do? Let Dean see how he was reacting to him? Let him find out the ugly truth? Dean thought of him as naive, as a child to be watched over and coddled. Sam couldn't wish harder for the days when he'd been just that. But now, he'd lost his innocence and found himself in the grips of lustful dreams and had no idea of how to stop them or how to fight them.

As Dean approached him with the rag and started to wash the back of his neck, Sam tried desperately to think of anything other than his brother. His skin was still burning from the hot water, but even that wasn't enough to drive his brother from his mind. He tried to think of the girls he'd seen in town on occasion, about the glimpses he'd gotten of ankles and too tight clothes, things Dean had sometimes commented on. But all he could really think about was his brother's scent, and how close his mouth was, and how it would feel if Dean were to lay on him. He had to bite his lip to prevent a moan from escaping, and that too was something he didn't understand.

When Dean lathered the rag and started washing his chest, Sam tensed even more. Evil thoughts invaded his mind, made him go so far as to imagine being turned into a girl for a day by the fae, and then being found by Dean swimming in a watering hole. It was unlikely that Dean would take advantage, but if he did... yes, it would still be wrong, but Sam wouldn't earn the hatred he deserved for wanting his brother to touch him in unmentionable ways.

As Dean's hand dipped down under the water, Sam's breath caught. He felt himself hardening again, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Tears sprang to his eyes. He held his breath, willing his body to behave, but it wouldn't. "Stop it. Just stop it," he hissed, shoving Dean away from him with all of his strength and splashing water on him and over the edge of the tub... creating more work for his brother. "Go away. Leave me alone. For a few minutes, just leave," he said, unable to stop the tears from spilling, but staring at his brother just the same, showing him he meant it.

* * *

Dean waited for Samuel to answer him and when the younger boy didn't he sighed and did his best to let go of his frustration. He didn't want to be angry with his brother. But he hated it when Samuel tried to do more than he could and ended up hurting himself. There was no shame in asking for help when he needed it. Dean was more than happy to help him. Why couldn't Samuel see that?

Deciding to let it go for now, not wanting to upset the younger boy further, Dean grabbed the rag and soap and started running it across his brother's back. He could feel Samuel's tension immediately, which only seemed to grow worse with every second, and Dean watched his brother in concern. He wanted to ask Samuel what was wrong. He had always helped Samuel bathe like this. Mostly when the younger boy was too sick to do it himself, but Samuel never seemed to mind when he was feeling better too, and Dean didn't mind helping.

What had changed? It seemed lately like his brother didn't even want him near him anymore. He could barely look at the younger boy without Samuel becoming quiet and tense. If he sat close to his brother, tried to hug him, ruffle his hair, or tried to touch him Samuel got even more upset. Of course he'd noticed, he wasn't an idiot. He simply didn't understand why things had suddenly changed. He knew something was wrong, but Samuel was trying to hide it from him, and that scared Dean more than anything. Why couldn't Samuel just talk to him? Tell him what was wrong so Dean could fix it.

When Samuel suddenly shoved him, nearly knocking him off the stool he'd been sitting on, and ordering him to leave it was a little like being stabbed in the heart. For a long time he just sat there, staring at Samuel in shock and confusion. The shock and hurt must have shown on his face, but Dean quickly schooled his features. Finally he nodded slowly and stood up. His presence was only upsetting his brother. If Samuel really wanted him gone...

Dean turned and started for the door but he paused in the doorway.

"Don't even think about trying to get out of the tub by yourself." He said softly but firmly. There were a lot of things Dean would put up with, but if Samuel fell and hurt himself... "Call me when you are finished."

Dean walked out the door without looking back. 

* * *

The way Dean stared at him in disbelief and shock almost had Sam babbling his apologies. He hadn't meant to push so hard. He hadn't wanted to hurt his brother's feelings or to anger him. It's just... he'd been... was desperate. But the words stuck in his throat. What could he say, how could he explain himself?

Anyone else, anyone other than Dean, would surely have lashed out at him. Instead, Dean softly agreed to leave him be for a little while. It should have made Sam feel better, but it didn't. Shame washed over him over how he'd treated his brother. Dean was so dedicated to him, did everything for him, gave up so much. Sam knew it. Everyone knew it. And now, it was like he was throwing it back in Dean's teeth, and still, his brother was gentle with him.

The tears flooding his eyes started to slip down his cheeks. Maureen was right. He was useless. He was a drain on Dean. And now, he was worse than that. He gave his brother trouble that Dean didn't need. And he ... Sam didn't even have all the words to describe the forbidden feelings he had for his brother. At church, the priest would call it 'lust' and yell at him, them, the entire flock, to set lust aside, that it was the devil's work. But he never said how to do that. How to stop yourself from dreaming, from imagining, and from wanting. How to keep from feeling your blood rushing through your system, your heart from pounding madly in your chest. How could you both hate and love a feeling, how could you banish it?

Having no answers, Sam cried softly as he went through the motions of washing his body. The real filth was on the inside, not on his skin through. Rubbing his skin raw, as he was doing, would do no good.

He might have stayed in the bath longer, but he didn't want the water to get too cold. Dean would get inside next, and the warmer it was now, the less water he'd have to add. Of course, from his bed in the bedroom, Sam would have a clear view of the bath. Maybe he'd get himself downstairs to avoid the temptation of watching. Dean hardly ever let him go straight downstairs right after a bath, but ...

Grabbing the sides of the tub, Sam slowly stood up and reached for the towel. For one crazy moment, he contemplated getting out and sitting on the chair. But if something happened, then he'd set Dean back even more.

"Dean, I'm ready," he whispered, wrapping the towel around his waist. His throat was parched, his voice had come out far lower than he intended. "Dean, I'm done," he said louder, biting his lip as he waited for his brother to appear.

* * *

Dean only went as far as their bedroom. He didn't want to be too far away just in case... Dean almost snorted at the thought. Just in case Samuel needed him. Hadn't his brother already made it very clear that he did not _want_ him around? Well, even if Sam didn't want him around it didn't mean that Sam didn't need him. Right?

Sighing softly Dean sat down on the edge of his bed, resting his forearms on his knees and staring at his folded hands between them.

Dean wondered if this was how mothers felt when their sons grew up decided they no longer needed them. Hearing the boys and young men in town talking about their mothers, Dean couldn't imagine not wanting or needing them. But then he had already lost his mother long ago.

Thinking of his mother made his heart ache. He'd been only four when he'd lost her. She had died giving birth to Samuel, but he'd never blamed the younger boy for that. As much as he'd missed his mother he had treasured his brother from the first time he saw him.

Dean barely remembered their mother anymore. But at least he'd known her for a little while. Samuel had never known her. Their father was only a distant memory as well, the man had died so long ago. Dean had been a mother, father, and brother to Samuel all of these years. He had done his best though he'd often thought he wasn't doing well enough.

But Samuel was growing up. Like the boys in town that complained about their mothers... well, mothering... he supposed he could not really blame his brother for that. But Samuel wasn't like other boys his age. Samuel might want to do more for himself, but often he couldn't. If he tried to do the things that other boys and men did he could seriously hurt himself or worse.

Samuel was so stubborn. Often he wouldn't ask for help even if he needed it. Which was why Dean often did things for Samuel even if the boy didn't ask, because he knew Samuel _wouldn't_ ask. Calling himself 'useless' and acting as though he were some kind of burden to Dean no matter what Dean said otherwise. It was so... frustrating.

But as much as it might scare him to watch Samuel struggle with something and not ask for help... maybe Dean shouldn't help him. Unless he was certain his brother would injure himself if he didn't intervene. Right now he was only upsetting Samuel by forcing his aid on the younger boy when Samuel insisted he didn't want or need it.

Perhaps they would start small. He would allow Samuel to do more by himself. Simple things. Like the bath. That was 'safe' enough, at least when his brother was feeling well enough. There was probably no real reason why Dean should help his brother wash in that case, and if it would make Samuel feel better...

He heard Samuel's voice and stood, trying not to seem like he was rushing as he returned. He frowned a little when he saw Samuel standing in the tub. Even if he could have slipped and fallen... Dean bit his tongue and said nothing. He merely walked over to the younger boy and supported Samuel as he climbed out of the tub. While he wanted to help Samuel dry off he didn't. He merely stood aside and waited for the younger boy to finish, ready in case his brother swayed unsteadily.

When Samuel had finished Dean helped his brother into their bedroom and sat the boy down on his bed. He fetched his night shirt but he didn't help the younger boy put it on. Merely left it on the edge of the bed within his brother's reach and returned to the tub. The water was still plenty warm enough that he didn't need to add much hot water to it. Samuel had always been considerate like that.

Dean quickly stripped down and put their dirty clothes into a basket. He could wash them tomorrow. Then Dean got into the tub and despite his troubling thoughts did his best to relax, letting the hot water unwind some of the worst knots in his muscles since this was a luxury they didn't indulge in often.

* * *

The silence between them was deafening. As Sam slowly dried his body, Dean stood stiffly next to him. No words were exchanged. There was no smile on his brother's face, and why should there be, after the way he'd shouted at him, pushed him. A lump painful lump grew in Sam's throat. He stole another glance at Dean, then gave a nod. He tried to walk straight, but Dean always read the signs and was at his elbow right when he might have stumbled. With his throat closed up so tight, Sam didn't even manage to get the words 'thank you' out.

In the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed. Dean strode away from him. Yes he was only walking to the chest of drawers, but Sam had to wonder whether he wished he could walk away, and keep walking. It would be better for Dean. And if he knew of half of what went through Sam's mind these days, he just might walk.

When Dean returned with his nightshirt, once again, Sam was unable to voice his gratitude. He started to raise his arms, but either Dean didn't see or he'd had enough of him for one night. The folded nightshirt landed next to him on the bed, and then his brother was walking out.

Big, hot tear drops fell from Sam's eyes onto the towel across his lap. This was his fault. All his fault. Dean was angry, or hurt, and Sam wanted to make it better, make this chasm between them go away. He wanted to throw himself in Dean's arms, to hear Dean tell him it was fine, that what had happened was forgotten. He wanted Dean to stroke his hair, and tell him a story. He wanted Dean to kiss him.

Sam's eyes widened, his heart giving a start at the direction his mind had taken. Grabbing the nightshirt, he pulled it over his head. When he pulled it down and turned his head, he saw Dean from the doorway. His shirt was already off and he could see his back, his muscles rippling. His pants were tugged forward, like he was working to unlace them.

Mouth dry, Sam told himself to look away. Yet he didn't. He held his breath as his brother dropped his trousers, swallowing hard at the sight of Dean's bare ass and legs. His cock twitched under the thin, now slightly damp, material of his nightshirt. No. He prayed to God that the devil would leave him alone. Prayed that God would drive his unclean thoughts from his mind.

Instead, his heart started hammering against his ribs. As Dean lifted his leg to get into the tub, Sam got a glimpse of his cock hanging between his legs. Sam's stomach clenched so tight, he could barely breathe. Misery and guilt ate at him as he watched Dean sliding into the water and lean his head back, sometimes closing his eyes, and sometimes licking his lips. Those small, tiny movements, how could they affect Sam so much? He didn't understand it, and didn't want it. He wanted it to go back to the way it had always been. None of these strange yearning, these evil desires complicating things.

His hands walked across the bed sheets, gathering a bunch in each hand. He squeezed his fists tight, tried to ignore the growing ache between his legs. And yet, he didn't, couldn't take the basic step of looking away. His eyes tracked Dean's tongue slipping across his lips, he wondered what it would feel like to have Dean's tongue inside his mouth, or even against it. Sam's breathing started to grow more labored as he thought about how close they'd have to be. _Please. Please let me think of something else,_ he prayed in vain.

Then Dean stood up and Sam was left open-mouthed, watching the steam rise from Dean's body. Watching Dean lather up a wash cloth, watching him touch himself and knowing how much Sam wanted to be the one touching him everywhere. Giving a groan of frustration, Sam reached to table next to his bed and picked up metal box he'd been working on, trying to make a better mouse catcher. He fiddled with it, trying to move the parts to where he wanted them, trying to concentrate on that. It was futile, his gaze went right back to his brother, and as Dean washed between his legs, all Sam wanted to do was touch himself like. Each time he'd done it in the past, he'd sworn it would be the last time. _No. I won't defile myself, my brother._ But his eyes burned with hunger, His body flushed with need. His cock throbbed and ached, pressing heavily against Sam's stomach.

Dropping the item in his hand, Sam closed his hand over his cock, right over the material of his nightshirt. He started to stroke himself fast and hard, wanting it to just be over with. Wanting to be free of the grips of whatever it was that made him watch his brother like this. When Dean dropped the soap and bent over, an audible groan broke from Sam. His eyes widened, he almost put his hand over his mouth except, when he looked down, he notice his hand was cut up. He must have been gripping the mouse trap that hard, and he'd never noticed. And now his night shirt was bloody and had hand prints right where it was obvious...

Even the horror of his brother finding out. Even the pure terror Sam felt, did not prevent the flood of his release. Doubling over, he pressed his mouth against his thigh and knee, and rode the waves of heat until they left him alone with his problems.

Time was short. He tore the tell tale nightshirt off his body, cleaned up his own seed and then changed. Though he wasn't supposed to go downstairs where it was draftier, at least no after a bath, he grabbed the dirty clothes, and his crutch and sneaked out of the room, then slowly made his way down stairs.

In the kitchen, he stood in front of a small barrel of waters, washing off the evidence of his sins. And yet, his burning palm, cut up by the metal, bore the evidence of God's displeasure. Maybe this was what he needed to do. Punish himself. Its what the pastor said, that people should whip the devil out of themselves. His gaze skimmed the room, he saw the leather harness Dean had left in the living room. Once he was done washing and hanging his nightshirt, he headed to the living room and used the leather from the harness, whipping himself, and cracking it over his back. He tried to keep his moans of pain to a minimum, but he knew if he didn't hurt himself, it wouldn't count. And then he lost count of the number of lashes, and barely made it to putting the harness back. Pulling the blanket that was always on the sofa for him around his aching body, Sam collapsed across the sofa,his body trembling, his forehead damp with his sweat, his flesh welted and burning under his clothes and the harsh blanket. _Please God, let this be enough. Let this drive the devil away._  


* * *

In the end Dean had finished his bath as quickly as possible. Once he was done washing he made certain all the soap was rinsed from his body and climbed out, grabbed a dry towel, and began drying himself. The bath wasn't really doing him much good anyway. He usually liked to take a longer bath, tried to enjoy soaking in the hot water, letting it relax his work sore muscles, but tonight he was simply too tired to linger. That, and his frustration of not knowing what to do with Samuel seemed to prevent him from relaxing fully no matter how hard he tried.

He simply wanted to go to bed.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, deciding he would empty the tub tomorrow, he was simply too exhausted to do it tonight and it could wait, Dean returned to their bedroom. He'd intended to get a nightshirt, pray with his brother, say goodnight and maybe ease some of the tension between them before climbing into his own bed and falling into a hopefully dreamless sleep. Instead he found the room empty and his temper flared.

Yes, he'd been upset with Samuel earlier for his actions. He'd been frustrated. But now he was angry. Very angry. How many times did he have to tell the boy not to go down the stairs by himself? He was still damp from his bath and even though it was the middle of summer the day had not been as warm as it had been. There was almost a chill in the air tonight and Dean had already put the fires out downstairs. Was the boy _trying_ to make himself ill?

"Samuel!" He couldn't remember the last time he had really yelled at the boy. It took a lot to make Dean really lose his temper, and even when he did his ire was usually not aimed at his brother. But he was definitely yelling now. Stomping down the stairs, fuming. He didn't know what he was going to say to his brother yet, but it would probably involve more yelling and neither of them were going to bed until Samuel told him what the hell was going on with him.

"What in heavens name are you..." Dean's voice trailed off as he finally reached the bottom of the stairs and saw his brother sitting in the dim light. Even from here he could tell the boy was pale as a ghost and shaking like a leaf. Sweat pouring down his face despite the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

Dean ran the rest of the way down the stairs and was at his brother's side in an instant. He was shaking almost as much as Samuel and terror gripped his heart so tight it was a wonder he was still beating. Why had Samuel done this? Was he trying to make himself ill? Was he trying to kill himself? Did he want so badly to leave this world? Leave him? Didn't Samuel know he would die without him...

That was before Dean saw the blood. His breath froze in his throat seeing the younger boy's hands sliced open. Slowly Dean took those hands. Handling them as though they were the most fragile glass. Turning them over to examine the damage. They did not look too deep but they were still bleeding sluggishly.

"What have you done..." Dean finally managed in a croaked whisper. He barely even heard the words himself, but they were enough to break something inside of him. His eyes burned and the next sound torn from his throat was an anguished sob as he buried his face against his brother's knees. Clutching at the fragile hands in his, too hard he knew given the wounds, it was probably painful and making them bleed again but he couldn't seem to stop as he sobbed brokenly.


End file.
